^5^^' 




^^.l^^...^^!:!^^^^ 




\k 






7 %.M^^X7'M^ 









D ^: 



4.^- 



^TV^ -.(K 



r « 



'^-i^-^ 






-: ^^^' J:i|-A,ff\i'^^r^ 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

'^s m^ — 

Chap. _. Copyright No. 

Shelf..G:_l-2 S 6 ' 



UNSTEL> STATES OF AMERICA. 





§^Mi- 









i^' ^prii^^^^^ 







^ , I i ^ 



:^^t^^'!; 



R SOUVENIR 



-OF- 



'J'HE T ENNESSEE PENTENNIflL 



POEMS . . 



-BY- 



HNNIE SOMERS GII.CHRIST 



ILLUSTRATED 



'iw.^l-t-^ 



Nashville, Tenn. : 

GOSPEI. ADVOCATE PUBI^ISHING COMPANY. 

1897. 






Copyrierhted. 1897. by 
(\nnie Somers Gilchrist. 



TO THE DAUGHTERS OF 

THE AMERICAN HE VOLUTION 

THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED 
BY 

THE AUTHOR. 




C^S^^^^^f^Z^/^ 






<A.,^^f^:^^^C'^L±y7- 



PREFACE. 

Annie Somers Gilchrist is Tennessee's sweet sing- 
er wlien she lets poesy try her wings. As a novelist, 
she is best known by the popular novels: " Rose- 
hurst," " Harcourt," and " The Mystery of Beech- 
croft." Her poems are numerous and widely known. 
*' The Indian's I'rophecj," " Put None but Americans 
on Guard To-nigiit " (which was recited by her at the 
inaugural of the Tennessee Centennial), "Ethel," "To 
Annie," and " Our Glorious Banner, the Hope of 
the Free," are all well and favorably known. 
" The Indian's Prophecy " and " Put None but 
Americans on Guard To-night " have been read by 
every D. A. R. in the United States, I doubt not, as 
they were published in their organ, the American 
Monthly .Alagazine. She has been a very prolific 
writer, and life with her is like wine: become better 
with age. She is not only a poetess and novelist, 
but an excellent musician and elocutionist. She has 
a regal presence, is a charming conversationalist, 
and those who know her best love her most. 

She is a Daughter of the American Revolution by 
right of her descent from Captain Matthew Somers, 
nephew of Sir George, that noted traveler and sol- 
dier for whom Somers Islands (now called Bermu- 
das) were named. 

Lord Delaware sent out from England, in 1609, Sir 
George Somers and Sir Thomas Gates, with five hun- 
dred settlers and nine vessels, to the colony of which 
he (Lord Delaware) had been appointed Governor, 

(5) 



6 Preface. 

but was unable just at that time to leave England. 
Eight of the vessels reached Jamestown; but the 
Sea Venture, in which Sir George Somers embarked, 
was separated from the others and cast ashore on 
the Somers or Bermudas Isles. They, with the as- 
sistance of the crew, raised a crop. Several months 
later the}' made a boat, which contained only one 
iron bolt, and preceded bj^ a few weeks Lord Del- 
aware to Jamestown, but left three of their crew — 
Chard, Waters, and another unknown — on the island 
for misdemeanors. Some weeks later, Sir George 
and his nephew, ^Matthew Somers, with three ves- 
sels, returned to the Bermudas in the interest of the 
colony of Virginia, and found that the three men 
that they had left there had, in the meantime, dis- 
covered great quantities of verdigris; and, falling 
out in consequence thereof, two agreed to fight a 
duel for their possessions; but Chard discovered this, 
and hid their weapons, thereby frustrating their 
murderous intentions. 

On his return to England, Sir George related these 
circumstances and voyage to Shakespeare, who 
wrote " The Tempest " thereupon. (Vide " Harness 
Edition of Shakespeare," page 6; also "Notes on 
the Tempest," and Stith's " Virginia," page 120.) 

Mrs. Gilchrist is on her maternal side a descend- 
ant of •Nrary Arden's brother. Mary Arden married 
John Shakespeare; and of this union was the im- 
mortal bard, William Shakespeare, born. John and 
Anne were common names in both the Shakespeare 
and Arden families. The poet's sister Anne died in 
infancy. 

. Mrs. Gilchrist's grandfather, John Somers, a de- 
scendant of Captain INfatthew, %vas born in Warwick- 



Preface. 7 

shire, England, and, marrying there Catherine Ar- 
den (cousin to the poet), emigrated to the colonies, 
and held a captain's commission in the Revolution- 
ary War. 

Her father, James Somers, fought in the Creek 
War and in the war of 1812, and had at the battle of 
the " Horseshoe " three bullets shot through his hat. 
James Somers married jNIiss McFarland, of Wilson 
County, Tenn., a lady of fine literary acumen, from 
whom our authoress inherits her talent for and love 
of letters. The well-known Chancellor Somers, 
whose spotless ermine adorned the bench for over 
twenty years, was her elder brother. She married 
in 1860 ]\rr. John Gilchrist, a native of New York, 
and who was of the well-known Gilchrist family. 
At the present writing she is a widow of some years' 
standing. R. S. G. 



CONTENTS. 



Tennesskk Centennial ii 

Put None but Americans on Guard To-night 13 

To Mrs. Mary L. Butler 14 

Mrs. Mildred Spottswood Mathes 16 

To Clark Mills 18 

Jefferson Davis 18 

Mrs. Mary I<. Baxter 20 

The Indian's Prophecy 21 

Mrs. Ida Horton East 26 

The Nation's Centennial 28 

Mrs. Julia Peete Bate 30 

Our Glorious Banner, The Hope of the Free 32 

Mrs. Sarah Baird Taylor 34 

The Blue Tennessee 36 

The Unknown Confederate Dead 37 

Mrs. Sarah Polk Fall 38 

The Deserted Home 40 

Mrs. Florence Kirkman Drouillard 42 

The Judge's Daughter 44 

Mrs. I^aura L,avender Baxter 48 

The Soldier's Return 50 

Visions 52 

September 54 

Mrs. Judith Winston Pilcher 56 

Andrew Johnson 58 

Mrs. Martha Jones Gentry 60 

Twilight Musings 62 

Mrs. Martha Johns Nichol 64 

Farewell to the Old Year 66 

Midwinter 67 

A Reminiscence 70 

(9) 



lo Contents. 

Miss Mary Boyce Temple 72 

A Celestial Marriage 74 

Mrs. Klizabeth C aruth ers Ewing 76 

Mrs. Mary Woolridge I,ath.\m 78 

They'll IvOVE Thee There 80 

Pygmalion Ti 

Mrs. Novella Davis Marks 84 

Mrs. Katherine Eastman 86 

lyiNES TO Mrs. Edward H. East 88 

The Silver Medal 89 

Miss Susie Gentry 90 

JOLiE Janie Ray 91 

Mrs. Martha Moore Allen 92 

Miss East 94 

A Tennessee Heroine 95 

I,iTTLE John's Request 97 

Mrs. Sarah Ewing G aut 98 

Mrs Ann Eliza Gardner Stephens 100 

The Springtime of Youth 102 

Mrs. Ann Hill Snyder 106 

Mrs. Mary Currey Dorris 108 

Our Bob 1 10 

Miss Harriet Marshall 112 

Ethel Somers 115 

My Love 116 

"Welcome 117 

John, Annie, and Ethel Gilchrist 120 

To Annie 121 

Ethel 122 

Woman's Building, Tennessee Centennial 123 

ESTELLE 124 

Going Home 127 

Reunion 129 

Broken Ranks 132 



SOUYENIR OF 

THE TENNESSEE CENTENNIAL 



TENNESSEE'S CENTENNIAL. 



fHEY bid you hail, O Tennessee, 
On this your grand Centennial time; 
They hail you strong- and grand and free; 
Your greetings come from every clime. 

Fair Nashville cradled in her hills. 
Half girdled by clear Cumberland, 

From out her rocks and singing rills 

Forth stretches her white, beck'ning hand. 

From Maine's high hills to Mexic's wave 
Exhibits come the scene to grace. 

And North and South and gay and grave 
Will meet each other face to face. 

They'll stroll amid the stately halls, 

And view the grand works gathered there, 

Or where some spray of crystal falls 
On fragrant, clust'ring blossoms rare. 

Out floating on the silver lake 

Sections apart will then clasp hands; 

And fond, sweet memories will wake, 
And pleasure crown our visiting bands. 

(II) 



: Souvenir 

Along the winding paths they'll go, 

'Mid bosky glens through spacious grounds. 

Where lovely Southern roses blow, 

And grosbeaks sing their merry rounds. 

If I could sweep a golden lyre, 

And sing and sing a hundred years, 

I could not tell the trials dire 

You have endured in blood and tears — 

Of King's Mountain and th' Alamo, 
Of perils sore and marches drear, 

The sure advance, though weary, slow, 
Of Liberty sun-sandaled here. 

And later, when the tocsin rung 

Of civil war out o'er our land, 
How into line you grandly swung 

Beside the South's devoted band. 

Your country called, and you were true* 
And Bate and Harris led the van. 

No worthier sons 'neath heaven's blue 
E'er martialed stronger, braver men. 

I could not tell the triumphs grand 
You have achieved in bygone time, 

And now you're hailed in every land; 
They sing your praise in every clime. 

How fair your women, Tennessee! 

How brave your men! Of volunteers 
You bear the palm. May victory 

And right crown you through all the years! 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 13 



PUT NONE BUT AMERICANS ON GUAKD 
TO-NIGHT." * 



(JJ\UN clouds enwrapped the sunset skies, 

Bird music blent with the night wind's sig'hs, 
Cold swept the river its banks along-, 
Where camped our troops, eight thousand strong. 

A grand voice cried in the waning- light: 
Put none but Americans on guard to-night! " 

Stands a martial form in the dying day; 
His eagle eye swept where his brave hosts lay, 
A prescient light from their clear depths poured, 
A ray gilded his scabbarded sword, 

While his voice rang true and brave and right: 
Put none but Americans on guard to-night! " 

Did his prescient soul see this State to-day. 

For which he so long held the foe at bay. 

With his handful of troops in many a fray. 

The long, weary marches o'er mountain and gorge, 

The black winter spent at drear Valley Forge. 

'Twas a warning cry in the waning light: 
Put none but Americans on guard to-night! " 



*Washington's famous command at the siege of Yorktown the 
night before the decisive battle which preceded the surrender of 
Cornwallis. It has been adopted as the motto of the Cumberland 
Chapter of the Daughters of the American Kevolution at Nashville, 
Tenn. 



14 Souvenir 

O, say, does our nation still heed that command 
That first sounded out o'er Potomac's dark strand? 
My countrymen, O if you never Mould drag 
In the dust and the mire our grand, starry flag, 

O, heed our great chieftain's advice and foresight. 
And " jDut none but Americans on guard to-night! " 

For — lo! — red Anarch^•'s murderous hand 
Has threatened our borders. O, Freedom's brave 
band. 

Engrave on your hearts in letters of light, 

And "put none but Americans on guard to-night! " 



WRITTEN OX VISITING THE HERMITAGE AND 
THE TOMB OF ANDREW JACKSON. 

TO MRS. MARY L. BAXTER. 



" The sunlit crystal showers, 
Born in the summer clouds, with silver edge, 
Fall on the rustling corn and thick-set hedge 
And fragrant wayside flowers. 

The roses to and fro, 
Moved by the Western wind, their leaves unfold; 
And stately lilies open hearts of gold 

And waxen cups of snow. 



Tennessee Centenniai,. 15 

Up from the woodland deep, 
Whose secrets moon nor sun can penetrate, 
The perfumes steal, and on my footsteps wait. 

The showers wake them from sleep. 

The darting" quail's quick call 
Comes sharply through the softly pattering" rain 
From out the waving fields of growing" grain, 

Where drops have ceased to fall. 

Along the stone-paved way 
And through the galleries' fluted columns tall 
And in the olden, classic pictured hall 

The soft June zephyrs play. 

As when so long ago, 
To offer homage, statesmen great and wise 
Came here; and Beauty's daughters, with sweet 
eyes 

Of praise and brows of snow. 

Then, as to-day, uncurled 
The roses to the morning's golden dew; 
Then, as to-day, stood that grand avenue. 

With crystal drops impearled. 

T think he lingers here, 
The spirit of "Old Hickory," rugged, grand; 
'Tis meet the wise and great of many a land 

Come here to drop a tear. 



i6 Souvenir 




MRS. MILDEED SPOTTSWOOD ^lATHES. 



Mrs. JNIathes is a Daughter of the American Rev- 
olution and a Colonial Dame, being descended from 
Lord Delaware, who was Governor of the colonies in 
1608.' Her ancestrj^ on her maternal side is also il- 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 17 

lustrious, being- the Spottswoods and Dandridges, 
of Virginia, and Col. Benjamin Cash, of South Car- 
olina. Her mother was Miss Mildred Sjaottswood 
Dandridge, She org-anized the first chapter of the 
D. A. R. in Tennessee five years ago. Even then she 
had the State Centennial in viev^^, and promoted the 
great enterprise by organizing chapters all over the 
State. She originated the idea of a Woman's Board 
of the Centennial, and in 1894 visited Nashville and 
laid the proposition before the Men's Board, and ten- 
dered the services of the D. A. R. She has been 
State Reg.mt for nearly five years, and has attended 
the National Congresses in Washington, Chicago, 
and Atlanta, thus advertising the Centennial with 
prominent people throughout the country. She is 
the spirit and genius of the D. A. R. Congress of 
nistoi\y, to meet here during the Centennial, which 
Avill bring representative women from every State in 
the Union. She is a member of the Hermitage As- 
sociation, a Daughter of the Confederacy, and was 
chairman for the Liberty Bell of Tennessee; and 
through her the historic relics and coins were col- 
lected to go into the bell. Through her influence 
the Legislature made an appropriation for the Chair 
of American History in the Peabody Normal Col- 
lege, and she afterwards presented a beautiful lib- 
erty bell to the chair. She is a brilliant society 
woman, but thoroughly domestic, and entertains her 
friends with the charm of old-time Southern hospi- 
tality. 



i8 Souvenir 

TO CLARK MILLS. 

[On the unveiliniu; of Jackson'^ statue, Nashville. Tenn.. May, 1880.] 
p\AIL, grand old sculptor! Nashville bids thee hail. 
Q, Thy fame's the pleasing theme of every tongue.. 
From cot and hall and mansion loud 'tis sung"; 
It floats on every g-ale. 

O, proud the wondrous model statue stands 

'Mid arch and column strong as those of Rome 

In her fair youth! May it, like her, ne'er come 
To fall 'neath Tyrrany's* polluting hands. 

O, what fond patience is discovered here! 

How faithfully love marked that grand, strong 
face! 

The proud war horse anxious for the race 
To batile, which he seems to scent afar! 

This work of genius, noble, glorious, brave. 

Has crowned thy fair and placid, green old age. 
■^^ Nashville loves that tomb at Hermitage, 

She loves thee, hero-sculptor, grave. 

• • • 
JEFFERSON DAVIS 

[Written on hearin<i of his death, December 6, 1889.] 

fAD w-atch by one Love could not save, 
O Southland, to-day you are keeping! 
Broken hearts and eyes dim ^^'ith weeping — 
To the grave 
Follow the brave. 



Tennesske Centennial. 19 

Fond, precious memories hold sway; 
While Sorrow — her black robes are trailing 
Throughont your green valleys, and paling- 
Are many bronzed cheeks at the wailing 

That sweeps up to-day 

From Mexic's broad bay. 

In Valhalla a welcoming song, 

It greets your proud chieftain so glorious, 

In death and defeat so victorious, 

In misfortune so strong, 

Spurning all wrong. 

That banner that swings up on high, 
The proudest and dearest under the sky — 

It could not console, 
Though it stood at halfmast. Grief's assuming 
You want not. Lo! already pluming, 
Tlis great golden wings 
Fame's eagle springs 
Your chief's name to enroll 
With the first on her scroll. 




Souvenir 




MRS. MARY L. BAXTER, 
Reo-ent of the Hermitage Association. 



Tennessee: Centenniai^. 21 

THE INDIAN'S PROPHECY * 

INSCRIBED TO MISS SUSIE GENTRY, OF B^RANKLIN, 

TENNESSEE. 

"p) EAR twenty long" years ere the proud eagle 
soared, 

Soared free from the lion's embrace, 
"Where prodig-al nature her beauties outi^onred, 

Dwelt a maiden of lofty, prond place. 

She dwelt where the Hudson's broad tide swept 
along 

Verdant banks gemmed with daisies of white 
And cypress, whose scarlet bells shook to the song 

Of the thrush through the fair summer night. 

As light as the fawn was her step on the lawn; 

'Twas music to a proud soldier brave. 
Her beauty his heart from the old world had drawn 

Clear across the Atlantic's deep wave. 

Many gallant men bowed to her glorious charms, 
]\Iary Philipse, the "Pride of the West; " 

Even ^Yashington bowed before War's stern alarms 
Thundered loud o'er the land of the blest. 

But not unto him would Lord Frederick's daughter 
E'er plight her j^roud troth — not to him. 

But smiled on a captain. Quite wise her friends 
thought her, 
For the star of the new world was dim. 



*Tlie charming; Mary Philipse, the daughter of Lord Frederick 
Philipse, of a noble Boheir.ian family, was married to Captain Roger 
Morris, in January, 1758. — Uenson J. Lossing. 



22 Souvenir 

One day, Mlien the sun, flanked Avitli mountains of 
gold. 

In the Occident slowly went down. 
And perfumes from myriads of blossoms uprolled 

Round the mansion that sat like a crown 

In the midst of its fountains and towering- trees 
And blooms of the clinging woodbines, 

Where mocking birds played hide and seek with the 
breeze. 
The fair Mary parted the vines 

That grew o'er a porch in luxuriance wild, 
Looked forth, her face bright as the dawn, 

Saw a youth moor a boat to the bank. How she 
smiled 
As she lig'htly stepjied out on the laAvn! 

And in the rich sunset that streaked with bright 
gold 
The broad, flowering grounds Avent the maid; 
The shelving bank reached, where the blue waters 
rolled, 
NoAV in sunshine, noAV darkling in shade. 

They swift floated out on the Hudson's wide stream; 

While the birds, homeward-bound, cleft the air. 
The moon, in the gentian-hued east, soft did beam; 

And wild blossoms bowed their heads there. 

And high o'er the water the grand palisades 

Shone afar in the soft eventide. 
He drew her more close as they passed the dark 
shades 

Where a great, pninted savage might hide. 



Tennessee Centenniai,. 23 

He whispered his love on the river's clear wave, 
And the maid shyly plighted her vows. 

Sweeter words could not fall on the ears of the brave 
When at the altar of beauty he bows. 

The water tones through drooping ferns softly 
strayed, 
And the katydids sung a sweet tane; 
Castle Philipse loomed high, 'gainst whose scarred 
front had played 
Storms of war, lone and grim in the moon, 

Where the maiden's proud ancestors dwelt in the 
past, 

Defying the savages' skill 
To take their rough stronghold. Two centuries cast 

Their shades o'er it. 'Tis standing there still. 

Their vows scarcely rose o'er the jilash of the oars, 

Where now gilded palaces glide; 
Such moments Elysium her glories outpours 

On the heart in a full, golden tide. 

O, swift passed that summer in Hudson's green vale, 
Where love and hope sung their sweet song, 

And cold winds of autumn turned gay blossoms pale, 
And birds to the southward did throng. 

On the gray palisades the thick, clambering vines. 

Frost-smitten, were golden and red; 
And ripe cones that rattled from tall emerald pines 

Gave proof that the summer was dead. 

Mount W^ashington towered in the dim, yellow haze, 
And the hills shone in crystal and gold, 



24 Souvenir 

And purple fruits hung- in the sun's slanting rays; 
And autumn's rich days were soon told. 

The forests that crowned the broad river were bare, 
And garnered all safe were the sheaves; 

Chill Boreas rushed down from his far northern lair, 
Swept to earth all the lingering leaves. 

One day, when the vale wore a carpet of snow. 
To the manor house happy guests came; 

The silver sleigh bells made a musical flow 
With the voice of many a high dame. 

To the wedding of the " Pride of the West " they had 
come — 
Mary Philipse, the gay and the fair; 
'Neath rich, silken awnings in th' grand drawing- 
room, 
The good rector married her there 

To the man of her choice. Then followed glad 
words; 

And the bride, in her diamonds and lace, 
As happy and bright as her darling pet birds, 

A vision of beauty and grace, 

Led the way to the feast, Iviehly sparkled the wines, 

With laughter and wit sped the time, 
When — lo! — at the door, in the sun's slanting lines, 

Stood a son of a far Western clime. 

A blanket of scarlet enwrapped his tall form, 

And the tire of prophecy burned 
In his dark, lofty eye that wore a weird charm 

As on the fair bride it was turned. 



Tennessee; Centenniai,. 25 

He opened his lips. Came his measured words plain: 
"From you your possessions shall pass 
When the eagle despoils the lion of his mane." 

He was gone. With fondest caress 
The bridegroom soothed his beautiful bride, 

But she pondered the message. Years sj^ed; 
And the words were fulfilled, when to Great Brit- 
ain's side 

Her husband, a loyalist, iled. 









26 



Souvenir 




MES. IDA HORTOX EAST. 



Mrs. Ida Horton East is a Daug-liter of the Amer- 
ican Revolution and eligible as a Colonial Dame, be- 
ing- the granddaughter of Capt. Thomas Kennedy, of 
Virginia, who fought in the Revolutionary War un- 



Tennessee; Centenniai.. 27 

der Francis ]\iarion. He was one of the three thou- 
sand heroes who never surrendered when South Car- 
olina Avas overrun by the British, but went to the 
Pedee Swamps, with his renowned leader, and har- 
assed the enemy until the colony was retaken by 
the laatriots. She is a relative of the Pickneys, and 
is descended on her maternal side from Capt. Ber- 
nard Elliott, who served in the Revolutionary War. 
She is the wife of Judge E. H. East, one of the most 
noted lawyers in the South. She was appointed Re- 
gent of the Cumberland Chapter, the second one of 
the order of D. A. R. organized in Tennessee. She 
has an attractive personality, high culture; and her 
approachable manners cause all classes of society 
to love her. Possessed of ample fortune, she is fore- 
most in all movements looking- to the uplifting" of 
mankind. Enthusiastic for temperance, she has 
been for years the president of the Central Woman's 
Christian Temperance X'uion; and young- ministers 
find in her an invaluable friend. At her stately 
home she entertains g-uests of national reputation, 
and from the same home the poor at-e never turned 
empty away. McTyeire ^Memorial Church is in exist- 
ence because of her untiring- energ-ies. She now 
holds the office of State Vice Reg-ent of the Daug-h- 
ters of the x\merican Revolution. 

Miss Edine East, eldest daug-hter of Judg-e and 
Mrs. East, is a D. A. R., being- descended in three di- 
rect lines from Revolutionary heroes. She is a 
young- lady of fine presence, sweet-spirited, a sing-er, 
and has a choice fund of information g-athered in 
her travels in Europe and the Holy Land. 



23 Souvenir 



THE NATION'S CENTENNIAL 



[Written July 4, 1876.] 
/^ SWIFT the circling years have sped, and earth 
{^ Has reached tliat spot upon her orbit where 
A century ago a nation's birtli 

Took place, and notes triumphant filled the air. 

Sweet, silver-sandaled Liberty arose. 

Her glorious song outfloating to the breeze. 

Whose cadences swept up to doors that close 
On dungeons locked by tyrants' grim decrees. 

Her towers are still intact, though four years long 

The tide of fratricidal war their feet surged 
round. 

Our sires deep planted them — yea, deep and 
strong — 

At Blinker Hill and New Orleans' bloodj^ 
ground — 

Aye, grand and strong; for some brave, gentle 
hands, 
Outstretched to deck them o'er with leaves of 
palm 
That lonely wave in sunny Southern lands 
And emerald pine 'neath Peace's oriflambe, 

Outstretched to hurl discord to Stygian gloom, 
The vulture fell that brothers brave had slain, 

And bind the South's rich, golden bowers of bloom 
In union true with breezy hills of ^Maine. 



Tennessee Centennial. 29 

Heart union! " shout the great Apalachian chains; 

And far, rock-ribbed Cordilleras join the cry: 
' Down, down, with strife and hate; while grandly 
reigns 

Onr great Centennial year beneath the sky! " 

Heart union! " shouts the strong, free Northern 
blast; 

And hopefully the balmy Southern breeze 
Echoes the strain where towering' palm trees cast 

Their broad, deep shades o'er golden tropic seas. 

Where warm, bright waves against the Gulf States 
curled. 
Twelve years agone, disunion fled affrighted; 
Brave hands the starry flag once more unfurled, 
Rut strife and hate the olive branch have blight- 
ed. 

But now we'll know no Xorth or South, while 

closes 
Our glorious first century of life; 
God make us free from tyranny as our roses. 
And as our breezes free from hate and strife. 

And when another century is ended, 

O, may our swelling anthem be the same; 
With angel accents may it still be blended: 
" Union, good will to every clime and name." 

Gracious Columbia, ever stand, as now. 

Foremost of nations on thy upward march; 

All coming centuries crown thy radiant brow 
The grandest, proudest land 'neath heaven's blue 
arch. 



30 



Souvenir 




MRS. JULI.V PEETE BATE. 



TliNNESSKE CENTENNIAI,. 31 



MRS. JULIA PEETE BATE. 

Mrs. Bate is eligible as a Colonial Daiue and Daugh- 
ter of the American Revolution, being a lineal de- 
scendant of the Peetes of Revolutionary fame. Her 
father, the late Arthur Peete, was a prominent law- 
yer of Huntsville, Ala. She was educated in Phil- 
adelphia; and soon after leaving school she married 
William B. Bate, who won distinction in the Con- 
federate cause, being promoted to the office of gen- 
eral of the Third Division of the Army of Tennessee. 
He has been twice elected Governor of Tennessee, 
and is now in the Senate of the United States. She 
resides in Washington during the sessions of Con- 
g'ress, participating in the social affairs incident to 
senatorial life without losing that taste for domestic 
duties which has always characterized her. She has 
two daughters: Mrs. Thomas F. Mastin, who resides 
In Texas, and Mrs. D. D. Childs, whose home Is in 
Los Angeles. As Miss Susie Bate, Mrs. Childs was 
for a number of seasons much admired in Washing- 
ton societ}'. ]\rrs. Bate's gentle grace of manner and 
sweet, Christian spirit have made her a general fa- 
vorite in social and official circles, both in Nashville 
and Washington. 



32 Souvenir 

" OUK GLOUIOUS BAXXER, THE HOPE OF THE 
FREE." * 

^AVKJx the wide Western ocean they sailed, 

l® Trusting- kind Heaven that tlieir prayers iiad 

prevailed 
To give them a home in that far distant State, 
Where worship they might as their souls should 

dictate. 
Ah, oft mountain high the green billows rolled, 
And the Xorth wind came whistling- so bleak and 

so cold; 
Did they look out across the long years and see 
Our glorious banner, the hope of the free? 

Their vessel was clothed in an ice coat-of-mail; 
But still their stout bosoms did never once quail, 
As onward they sped through the turbid green 

seas; 
For often they prayed on low'-bended knees 
To Him who held for them so faithful in fee 
Our glorious banner, the hope of the free. 

O, bright Avere the visions of that brave little band. 
As a joyful voice cried to them: " Land! Oho, 

land! " 
For, led by the ^Taster's own powerful hand. 
Their frail bark came safe to this wild Western 

strand; 
On which, to plant firmly, came sweet Liberty, 
Our g-lorious banner, the hope of the free. 



*The motto of Old Glory Chapter of the Daughters of the American 
Revolution at Franklin, Tennessee. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 33 

O. grandly swelled forth their paean of praise! 

It swept out and echoed down deep forest ways; 

Its harmony clung round the clear, lonely foun- 
tains, 

And uprolled its numbers to great, towering moun- 
tains. 

Praises prophetic sung out on bent knee 

For our glorious banner, the hope of the free. 

Old Glory " hung over Paul Jones' gallant ship, 
Bonhomie Richard, 'gainst Serapis. Though twice 

it did dip 
In the waters off England in the fierce naval fight, 
Soon renailed to the mast were its twelve stars of 

light* 
Outfloating in victory over the sea, 
Our glorious banner, the hope of the free — 
O, may it be ever a glorious flag. 
The pride of our country in dale and on crag. 
Upheld by strong hearts that will ne'er let it trail 
In defeat and dishonor; yes, may it e'er sail. 
With breezes of victory on the land and the sea. 
Our glorious banner, the hope of the free! 



*Soon after our colonies started iu business for themselves, they 
felt the need of a banner unlike all others. A patriotic artist de- 
signed one after the beautiful coat of arms of their leader, George 
Washington. "With a few sligkt changes it is exactly like the one 
we love to-day. This pattern banner was made in Philadelphia, 
1777, by two sisters, Misses Mary and Sarah Austin. The house in 
which they lived is to-daj^ pointed out to visitors as the birthplace 
of "Old Glory." The flag had but twelve stars at the time of the 
gallant Paul Jones' victory, as Georgia had not then entered into the 
Union, she being the last one of the original thirteen to be admitted. 



34 



Souvenir 




MRS SARAH BAIRD TAYLCR. 



Te;nnessee Centenniai,. 35 



MES. SARAH BAIRD TAYLOR. 



Mrs. Taylor is eligible as a D. A. R. and Colonial 
Dame, being the granddaughter of Capt. Zebuloa 
Baird, of North Carolina, who fought in the Revolu- 
tionary War, and was a member of the Senate for 
several years after peace was made. The celebrated 
Zebulon Baird Vance was a grandson of Capt. Baird, 
John Hunter, of Virginia, also a soldier in the Revo- 
lution, was her maternal grandfather. She is the 
wife of Robert L. Taylor, now elected Governor of 
the State for the third time, whose first canvass for 
that office against his brother Alf. made the Taylor 
brothers famous on two continents. The canvass, 
styled " The War of the Roses," Bob taking the white 
rose for his flower, and Alf. the red one, was con- 
ducted with a brotherly kindness and chivalric grace 
that made the brothers the admired of all parties. 
Mrs. Taylor has fine literary taste, a gracious man- 
ner, and her sweet approachableness renders her ex- 
ceedingly popular with all classes. 



36 Souvenir 

THE BLUE TENNESSEE. 

A^LOW brightl.y, O beautiful, blue Tennessee! 

Long ago poets sung of the gay Guadalquivir, 
The Ehine, and the llhone; but the stream fair and 

free 
Is the forest-crowned, beautiful, blue Tennessee. 

Let Spain boast her Tagus and England her Thames, 
Overlooked by grim castles begirt with dark shades; 
True, float o'er their streams dames with high- 
sounding- names; 
But b}^ Tennessee's wave dwells the fairest of maids. 



O'er low, murmuring wavelets, swift shot her ca- 
noe, 
Or ^^ith dusky hand moored it beneath the green 
shade 
To smile on the warrior brave, faithful, and true. 
Its depths mirrored dark eyes soft-veiled with emo- 
tion, 
Perchance drank the sweetness of Beauty's bright 
tear 
Dropped on its clear bosom as words of devotion 
Stole low on the pure maiden's listening ear. 

Then let Germany boast of her vintage-wreathed 
Rhine, 
And Spain of her palace-crowned, gay Guadal- 
quivir; 
The loveliest stream on which sun did e'er shine 
Is the forest-crowned, blue, rolling Tennessee 
River. 



Tennessee: Centenniai.. 37 

THE UNKNOWN CONFEDERATE DEAD. 

[Written while the hidies of Union City were engaged in the work 
of raising means to rebury the Confederate dead at that place in 
1868.J 

fHRICE noble aim befitting hands so fair, 
Befitting hearts so gentle and so true, 
Cause that might claim an angel's loving care 
Now claims this pure and holy trust- from you. 

Ah, broken hearts no doubt have waited long 
For the return of each one sleeping here, 

Waited and prayed and heard Hope's siren song, 
Till wailing dirges reached each list'ning ear. 

Perhaps, dear friends, for one who came not back 
You waited thus, prayed, wept, and watched; I 
have. 

My brother perished on War's blasting track, 
And sleeps now in a lonely, unknown grave. 

Pale Sorrow, somewhat hushed, to-day arose. 
And flitted slowly through fond Memory's hall; 

Again my soul bowed down beneath the throes 
War gave when o'er the South he flung his pall. 

Five dreary winters have their dirges sung 
Above my knightly playmate brother's grave; 

Mayhap some stranger hand hath kindly flung 
A chaplet o'er the mound of mine own brave. 

If so, a sister's heart would bless the hands. 
E'en as the loved of these would bless you, friends, 

And hope to clasp them in the starry lands. 
Where peaceful, joyous union never ends. 



38 



Souvenir 



r 



#«^^r *% 




MRS. SARAH POLK FALL. 



Tennessee Centenniai,. 39 



MRS. SARAH POLK FALL. 

]Mrs. Fall is a Daughter of the American Revolution 
and eligible as a Colonial Dame, being descended from 
Capt. Philip Sansum, of the First Virginia Regiment 
in the Revolutionary War, and also from Col. William 
Napier, of Revolutionary fame. The Xapiers were 
formerly the Lenoxes, of Scotland, the youngest 
branch of the house of Stuart. For bravery and 
prowess in war they were dubbed " Xo Peer," which 
finally merged into Napier. Mrs. Fall is niece and 
adopted daughter of the late Mrs. President Polk, 
and resides, as she has from childhood, in the old 
historic home, " Polk Place." Living amid such sur- 
roundings, she acquired tlie graciousness of manner 
that so well fits her for a society leader. Receiving 
with her aunt distinguished visitors from all parts 
of the world, she has always shown a tact, combined 
with a kindness of heart, that has made " Polk 
Place " a pleasant memory to all who ever visited 
there. She is Chairman of the Committee on Build- 
ing in the Woman's Department. Mrs. M. ]SL Gard- 
ner, formerly Miss Saidee Fall, the belle of Tennes- 
see, is her only child. 



40 Souvenir 



THE DESERTED HOME. 



[To the memory of Lieut. Erskine Somers, who was killed December 
24, 1863, while at the head of his company he was attempting to 
hold a brid^'e against the Federals, twenty miles from ]Mossy 
Creek, Tennessee.] 

/tf CROSS the dark'ning-, forest-skirted wold 
^■^^ The low, weird winds, like treacherous sleuth- 
hounds, creep; 
Thej' wail around the crumbling farmhouse old, 
Where erst dwelt loved ones now long-, long- asleep. 

The old brown gate lies low, o'ergrown with weeds 
Noxious and rank; and from the barn tlit scores 

Of dusky bats, which held for winter's needs 

In those bright years my father's plenteous stores. 

Yon broad, translucent stream in those old days 
Echoed with shouts of children; now the works 

Our busy hands built on the tiny quays 

Are gone; there now the poisonous lizard lurks. 

Oft have we sat here on the stoop and heard 
The cowboy's cattle call from yon far hill, 

Watched snowy lambkins driven to fold, while 
stirred 
O'er all the breath of bloom now cold and still; 

Oft watched the cooing pigeons, brown and white. 
Come fluttering from the eaves at rosy dawn 

To gather up the bread crumbs sweet and light 
We'd scattered broadcast on the dewy lawn; 



Tennessee Centenniai,. 41 

Oft crossed yon stile, where waves the old oak high, 
And strayed with friends amid the orchard's 
bloom, 

Till sunset's banners swept the purpling sky, 
And tinkling tea bell called our footsteps home. 

O, happy were the hearts that g'athered long 

Ago round that bright board in our home bower; 

And happy lips o'ertlowed with jest and song 
Till stars betokened midnight's witching hour. 

Alas! now all how changed! Along the gloom 
A weird owl flits and settles on the tree, 

The leafless tree, that once o'ershadowed home, 
The home so full of peace, so dear to me. 

Fair Luna's hung her pale, soft, silver bow 
Against the fading glories of the West; 

My brother, oft we've watched her fall below 
That distant hill's lone, slowly dark'ning crest. 

O brother, oft I turn to these dear places. 

With precious memories teeming. O my God, 

Vouchsafe me grace to meet the darling faces 
Up there when I'm laid 'neath th' valley's sod! 



42 



Souvenir 




MRS. FLORENCE KIRKMAN DROUILLARD. 



Tennessee Centenniai,. 43 

MRS. FLOEENCE KIRKMAN DROUILLAIID. 

Mrs. Drouillard is a Daug-hter of the American Eev- 
olution and a Colonial Dame, being the great-great- 
granddaughter of Isaac Wayne, of Chester County, 
Pa., who served six years in the Provincial Assembly 
and led many successful expeditions against the In- 
dians. He was the father of Anthony Wayne, who 
was general of all the Union armies at the time of his 
death. She is also a lineal descendant of John Cul- 
bertson, who fought in the Provincial Army, and also 
of James Chambers, colonel of the First Eifle Regi- 
ment, of Cumberland County, Tenn., who did gallant 
service for six 3'ears in the v>ar for independence. 
He led the attack at Bergen Point and White Plains, 
and was w-ounded at Germantown and Mammouth. 
Capt. Van Leer, who fought in the Germantown cam- 
paign, and Hannah Wayne, his wife, sister of Gen. 
Anthony Wayne, are also ]Mrs. Drouillard's ancestors. 
She is Vice President of the Woman's P>oard for 
Middle Tennessee, and has been from the first an 
enthusiast in the work. She has a gracious manner, 
and is well fitted for a social leader by her tact, 
wealth, and culture. She has spent much time 
abroad; and her daughter. Miss Florence, who was 
educated abroad, was wedded in May, 1896, to the 
Compte de Pourteles of Paris, France. Hers is a bril- 
liant and happy marriage. The fair young countess 
will visit the Centennial, and wnll assist in entertain- 
ing distinguished guests in her mother's palatial 
home. ]\rrs. Drouillard is the wndow of the late Capt. 
James Pierre Drouillard, a graduate of West Point, 
and who served in the Union Army until the close of 
the w^ar. 



44 Souvenir 

THE JUDGE'S DAUGHTER. 

A SOUTHERN IDYL. 

[To Mrs Judith Winston Pilcher.] 
TITELL, yes, I was a farmer's man; 
^^ For four long years I served him true. 
Controlled his rough, unruly clan 
"Quite svell," he said, " for twenty-two." 

That was my age. At early dawn. 

While still there gleamed the paling stars, 

I met his men, all strength and brawn, 
Down in the meadow by the bars, 

"Where stood the cows, in deep lush grass. 
Awaiting Kate, the buxom maid. 

Who knew full well when Tom would pass 
Along that way with pick and spade. 

Some turned the fallow ground right blithe. 
And some the later corn did sow; 

And others, each with glancing scythe, 
The verdant clover swift laid low. 

The birds chirped softly in the trees. 
Nest building in the greenery hid; 

And down the stream swept tuneful glees. 
Whose volume over white rocks slid. 

Longer and languorous grew the days. 

Light breezes fanned the ripened wheat. 

The blackbird piped his joyous lays 
Amid the straying odors sweet. 



Tennessee Centenniai,. 45 

How oft I went when day was done, 
From human eyes I sought a screen. 

And sat me where the waters run 
Beneath an arch of living" green! 

And while the twilight's wings of gloom 
Swept out the flags of red and gold, 

I bowed amid a world of bloom, 

And o'er me fond, sad memories rolled. 

An only child, my mother's joy — 

Now long, long dead — my heart would pause 
On times when I, so small a boy, 

Had lost my all in the " Lost Cause." 

My father led a regiment 

Of Southern braves on Shiloh's ground. 
Where shot and shell were thickest blent; 

By Johnston's side got his death wound. 

How oft I watched the stars go down, 

While round me cold, black shadows slept! 

Then hugging close my sorrow's crown. 
Through meads and fields I slowly crept. 

I reached my room, a lonely wing 

Of th' old farmhouse. 'Twas chill and bare; 

But sleep vouchsafed me some sweet spring 
Of joy: my loved ones met me there. 

Nay, say not 'twas but yearning dreams; 

I felt their presence when I woke 
Sure as I saw the crimson streams 

Pour up the heavens when dawn had l)roke. 



46 Souvenir 

The farmer cared for naught but gold, 

E'er left me to myself o' nights; 
I pored o'er volumes rare and old, 

;My father's gifts, by tallow lights. 

And so the winters came and went. 

And so the summers sped away, 
And autumn's spicy breezes blent 

With flushes that bespoke decay. 

I climbed the hill one Sabbath morn. 
The last year 'twas I worked for him; 

Below me rustled green, young corn; 
Above me sighed the woodlands dim. 

The birds chirped softly in the trees, 
Xest building' in the greenery hid; 

And down the stream swept tuneful glees. 
Whose volume over Avhite rocks slid. 

With book in hand, 'neath spreading beach, 

I on a mossy knoll reclined 
To list the varied forms of speech 

That ever through green woodlands wind. 

Some steps away a fence of rocks 
Eose by the highway hard and white. 

And vines that trailed o'er granite blocks 
Unw^rapped pale blooms to emerald light. 

Thus, while I lay and idly dreamed, 

Swift hoofs struck sharp the winding road; 

Grace, beauty on my vision gleamed; 

Tenfold more bright the morning glowed. 



Tennessee Centennial.. 47 

Down vSwept a shower of golden hair 

From jaunty cap of velvet blue; 
The rose and lily were vying- there 

'Neath eyes of heaven's cerulean hue. 

A whirr filled all the air around. 

The palfrey reared with quick alarm; 
I cleared the fence with one swift bound, 

And caught the maiden on my arm. 

One moment on my breast she lay, 

The judge's daughter, whose grand hall 

O'erlooked the landscape far away 
Amid the lordly live oaks tall. 

She rose with charming, gentle grace; 

And, while I helped her to her seat, 
A rosy wave swept o'er her face. 

As, gathering reins so naive and sweet, 

She said: " Come, see my father soon." 

1 strolled on by the palfrey's side; 
We'll ne'er forget that morn in June, 

The judge's daughter's now my bride. 

Some years ago the judge laid down 

His ermine worn with truth and grace; 

And now I go from town to town. 
Presiding in the honored place. 

The birds chirp gleeful in the trees, 

Nest building in the greenery hide; 
And down the stream sweep glorious glees, 

Whose wavelets over white rocks slide. 

Nashville, 1885. 



48 



Souvenir 




MRS. LAURA LAVENDER BAXTER. 



Tennesske Centennial. 49 



MRS. LAURA LAVENDER BAXTER. 

Mrs. Baxter is a Daug-hter of the American Revolu- 
tion by right of her descent from three great-great- 
grandfathers: Col. Benjamin Elliott, Col. Richard 
Richardson, and Capt. William J. Kennedy. Col. 
Richardson was a member of the council formed 
March 24, 1776, when South Carolina threw off Brit- 
ish rule; Col. Elliott was a member of the Council 
of Safety org-anized May 8, 1775, in Charleston, S. C, 
for the protection of the State against all enemies; 
Capt. Kennedy enlisted in the Indian w^ars in 1761, 
and did g-allant service in defense of his countrj^ 
Mrs. Baxter is the wife of the Hon. Nathaniel Baxter, 
Jr., President of the Tennessee Coal and Iron Com- 
pany. She is a lady of charming" personality and 
much firmness of character; a social leader, a posi- 
tion which she holds with such gracious gentleness 
that she wins all hearts. She is a sweet-spirited 
Christian, a member of the Methodist Church, and 
her life abounds in unostentatious acts of charity 
and kindness. 



50 SOIA'ENIR 

THE SOLDIER'S RETURN. 

[To Mrs. Chas. M. Ewing, of Dresden, Tennessee.] 

yXTlTHIN the verdant realms of leafy trees • 
^^^ The fresh young" year smiled 'neath th' arch- 
ing- blue, 
Like some fair boy inhaled the fragrant breeze 
That o'er the scented meadows softly flew. 

White, vine-wreathed cottages from farmyards g-reen 
Looked down on children placing in the vale, 

Let loose to greet the vernal hours serene 

And gather June's sweet trophies bright and pale. 

Where erst old Winter held his icy reign 
Lilies their petals waved in brooklets free, 

Bending their stems as if to list the strain. 
Rippling from sparkling wavelets full of glee. 

As some sweet soul drawn gently by the tides 

Of truth that roll through life's enchanting dream. 

And lingers there until she softly glides 
Upon the crystal, ever-living stream. 

So, charmed with morning lay and serenade, 

Low-sounding- through the still and starry night. 

The lilies drooped till velvet petals laid 

And floated on the brooklet's bosom bright. 

Where erst hoar Winter hung his pointed spears, 
And wailed sad anthems through the cold day's 
dun, 

Now dewdrops hung, like childhood's smiling tears. 
And flashed their radiance in the golden sun. 



Tennessee Centenniai,. 51 

Beneath the coppice green the partridge blithe 
Her cozy nest prepared with busy toil; 

The plowman hastened, happy, strong, and lithe, 
With willing hands to turn the fallow soil. 

Full many a lordling proud looks down on thee; 

E'en base contempt on thee presumes to lay. 
What would he do, hard-handed Honesty, 

If none should bow to noble Ceres' sway? 

The noisy blackbird twittered on the spray; 

The lambkins sporting on the meads were seen; 
The meek-eyed cattle loitered on the way, 

And slowly cropped the tender herbage green. 

Like some gay schoolboy, fresh with healthful bloom, 
Revels in happiness, while youth's fires burn, 

Nor thinks of coming age's dreary gloom. 
Nor human life, with bitter lessons stern. 

So lay the year, clothed in his green attire, 
Aw^aiting autumn's golden footsteps here. 

Waiting her hand once more to sweep time's lyre. 
And sing her glorious anthem ever dear. 

Amid this scene of summer soft and fair 
A watcher sat counting each dreary hour; 

June blooms breathed svs-eetness on the opal air 
That wreathed the lonely, rustic Southern bower. 

Her country called; her best loved nobly sprung 
To shield his love from thickly gathering woes. 

Among the first he marched, when loudly rung 
The trumpet blast heralding a nation's throes. 



52 Souvenir 

Oft had she waited in this rustic bower 

For his return; while from the hawthorn spray 

The whip-poor-will his wild, weird chant would 
shower, 
While closed the weary hours of loitering- day. 

Joy long- had been a strang-er in her home, 
Erewhile his roseate robes had circled her; 

He took his flig-ht when Civil War's black plume 
Swooped o'er the nation once so prond, so dear. 

Alas! defeat had blasted dreams so bright; 

To Heaven's mandate low she bowed her will. 
And sat there in the setting- sun's red light. 

And watched the g-ray top of the distant hill. 

At leng-th upon its misty heig-ht appeared 

The long--looked form. Peace crowned her brow 
serene ; 

Among- the odorous blooms greetings were heard. 
While joy crowned the blissful summer scene. 

Dresden, Tenn.. 1870. 

• • • 

VISIONS. 

HAPPY childhood, thy sweet, sunny morn, 
Unshadowed by sad thoug-hts of decay, 
Amid thy wreaths of hope entwines no thorn, 

No fear of chang-e! So far, so far away 
The nether g-ulf of sin and sorrow lies 

Awaiting" thine advancing footsteps; meads 
That swell in verdure which a thousand dies 

Bespang-le intervene. Still onward leads 
Grim destiny; and thou must follow where 
Deceit and fraud have laid thee many a snare. 



Tennessee Centenniai,, 53 

Unless perchance thou sink into the tomb 
That hidden lies beneath life's radiant bloom. 

O maidenhood, how happy are thy dreams, 

Pure as the skies that arched fair Eden's bowers, 
Brig"ht as Eve's starry diadem that gleams 

More bright as low she bends to kiss the flowers! 
Deep in thy heart a sweet, unquiet flame 

Burns still, lit up with love's own glowing hand. 
Dream'st thou pale sorrow ne'er will come to claim 

Thee, too — bid thee, too, join her mourning band? 
The hour will come when friends thou deem'st 

thine own 
In utmost need will leave thee sad and lone; 
Build not thy hopes on this world's sinking sands. 
Build on that Rock that every storm withstands. 

O motherhood, how tender and how true! 

Though faded maiden visions, yet thy hopes 
Now circle round thy boy v^dth brightest hue. 

Thou prayest for him life's greenest, sunniest 
slopes; 
And if — ah, oft 'tis so!- — his wayward feet 

Seem prone to stray in paths of wrong and strife. 
Thou riseist from thy midnight couch to meet 

The living God and wrestle for his life. 
Unto thy lone, dim closet slowly stealing, 
And 'mid its clustering shadows lowly kneeling, 
]Methinks about sacred place of prayer 
Angels, with snowy pinions, hover there. 

manhood, dreams bright as the orient sun 

Haunt thee! The common path thou soarest high 

Above; with tireless wing thou hop'st to win 
The goal that gains for thee fame's clarion cry. 



54 Souvenir 

Thou goest out in the solemn night to roam, 

And watch the silent whirl of myriad stars; 
Thou questionest, with eager soul, her dome 

Of mysteries locked in her silver cars. 
Alas! too late oft comes the laurel wreath; 
A Tasso's brow was pale and cold in death 
Before the long-grudged bays trembled above 
The lips that sung of glory and of love. 

Meek Christian, dream'st of spotless righteousness? 

Temptations compass thee, as shades the tomb. 
Hope thou in God; visions of endless bliss 

Will light a world shrouded in gathering gloom. 
Walk thou with fair humility's sweet band, 

Disturb not thee visions of fame's proud crest ; 
Thou hearest the cry that sounds o'er time's dark 

strand: 
"Come unto me, and I will give you rest." [song: 
Floats down to thee sweet Heaven's own glorious 
" Be faithful, true, and with my blood-washed throng 
Thy brightest hopes thou'lt more than realize, 
When, as a scroll, are rolled time's arching skies." 

• • • 
SEPTEMBER. 

Gorgeous, lovely, and fair 
As Turkish poet's dream of paradise. 
With dark-eyed houris, charming, gracious, wise, 

Circling in splendor there 

From August's fainting days 
Comes grandly forth September, golden shod. 
And scatters ripened fruit and golden-rod 

Through all the orchard ways. 



Tennessee Centenniai,. 55 

The crimson flame of morn 
Is heralded by trilling- mocking bird, 
And on the g-rassy slopes sweet sounds are heard 

And in the yellowing corn. 

The scarlet cypress' breath 
Fills all the dreamy air, and in the dells 
The wild convolvulus still swings her bells 

And twines her emerald wreath. 

The busy hum of bees 
Comes floating from the tufted meadow lands; 
The spacious fields, where snowy cotton stands, 

Are girt with reddening trees. 

Within the woodlands dim 
The cattle stroll, where flow the dark'ning rills; 
And o'er the uplands growing sere there thrills 

The dove's pathetic hymn. 

'Neath gold and red leaves vying 
Hang clusters of blue grapes, and winding through 
The gorgeous landscape gemmed with silver dew 

A coronach is sighing. 

Hist! how it falls and swells 
And tells of broken hearts and midnight glooms 
Unpierced with stars, and lonely, ghostly tombs, 

And Sorrow's leaden spells! 

Month with the golden crown. 
We hail thee here; and yet we mourn, we mourn; 
Alas! of beauty earth will soon be shorn 

By Winter's icy frown. 



56 



Souvenir 




MR^. JUDITH WINSTON PILCHEK. 



Tennessee Centenniai,. 57 



MES. JUDITH WINSTON PILCHER. 

Mrs. Pilcher is a Daug-hter of the American Revolu- 
tion and eligible as a Colonial Dame, being- descended 
from Governor Spottswood, of Virg-inia, and James 
Caldwell, of Virginia. The latter was the soldier- 
preacher of the Presbyterian Church at Elizabeth- 
town, a zealous patriot, and was so obnoxious to the 
Tories that they burned his house and church in 1780. 
Soon afterwards the British from Staten Island fell 
upon the village of Cumberland Farms, where h's 
wife and children were temporarily resident, and the 
wife was killed by a shot while praying with her chil- 
dren. It is said of Capt. Caldwell that, being short 
of wadding at one time, he distributed hymn books 
to the soldiers, with the exhortation: "Now, boys, 
f>ut Watts into them." Mrs. Pilcher is energetic in 
Centennial affairs, and is chairman of space in the 
Woman's Building. She is the wife of Capt. M. B. 
Pilcher, whose people were prominently connected 
w^ith the early history of Tennessee, and Avho was 
himself distinguished for gallant conduct in the Con- 
federate service. She has a brilliant and versatile 
mind, a most gracious and charming personality, and 
has long exercised a potent sway over the social 
world of Nashville. She has fine literary attain- 
ments, and wields a graceful, versatile pen. Her fa- 
ther. Dr. John Winston, was one of the most prom- 
inent physicians in Nashville. 



58 Souvenir 

ANDEEW JOHNSON. 

[On his death ] 

?HE nig-ht lamps dimly burn; 
The death moth's ghostly tap is on the floor; 
The gray owl silent flits around the tarn, 

And low winds creep along the wild old moor; 
The cold, j^ale stars cast throug-h 

The cirrus clouds a solemn, ghastly glow; 
No dewdrops kiss the violet's cups of blue, 

And gray bats through the gloom dart to and fro. 

Within the darksome dells 

The deadly nightshade spreads her poison leaves. 
And throug'h the acacia boughs, with solemn swells 

And cadences, a mournful anthem grieves. 
Wherefore is all this sadness? 

Throughout the happy, flowery summer day 
The birds and breezes chanted notes of gladness. 

Why traileth Sorrow's sable robes this way? 

Paler — yes, fainter — grow 

The mystic stars. The night is almost spent. 
The pallid morn looks in, and, bowing low% 

Her tears are with the wailing breezes blent. 
With drooping wing, each bird 

Forgets to greet the grayly dawning day; 
And weird, unearthly music now is heard. 

As o'er ^olian harps the sad winds play. 

Afar the matin bell 

Ivings out a dreary, sullen monotone. 
Wherefore is this? Yestere'en the fairy spell 

Of joyous beauty o'er the glad earth shone; 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 59 

]N^ow, in the wailing* breeze, 

The crimson-hearted fuchsia slowly swings. 
And in the somber depths of shuddering* trees 

The caterpillar weaves her filmy ring's. 

Ah, ere the sun's g"old ray 

Did flood the Southern hills with ruby wines, 
■"Andrew Johnson's life has passed away! " 

Came flashing* o'er the teleg*raphic lines. 
Grief spreads her tear-steeped zones 

From broad Atlantic's silvery-sanded shore 
Unto Pacific's Coast. The nation mourns; 

A patriotic statesman is no more. 

Out from the purple west 

Bring* flowers. O sorrowing* South, thy rarest 
bloom 
Bring* thou. Thy garlands bring*, O North and East, 

Wherewith to wreath a noble patriot's tomb. 
Ah, still's the thrilling^ voice 

That chained all hearts with g*lowing* eloquence! 
Th' unbidden g*uest his sable wing did poise 

Above our brave, and now he has g*one hence 
To that brig*ht country, where 

No tears e'er fall, no darksome tempests rise 
Beyond the track of old Nig*ht's dusky cars. 
O Tennessee, one of thy brig*htest stars 

Is crowned with bays beneath unfading* skies! 



Co 



Souvenir 





^ 


»i 




f1 


i 


' ^^'^'^shH 


1 


t 


■^^^ ^ 


^1 





MRS MARTHA JONES GENTRY 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 6i 



MRS. MARTHA JONES GENTRY. 

Mrs. Gentry, wife of Watson Meredith Gentry, 
M.D., and formerly surgeon in the Confederate serv- 
ice, is a Daughter of the American Revolution, trac- 
ing- her lineage from three great-grandfathers — Col. 
Joel Lane, Tignal Jones, and John Hinton — all of 
Wake County, North Carolina. They were delegates 
to the Provincial Congress which met at Hillsboro, 
August 21, 1775. The General Assembly met at the 
house of Col. Lane, June, 1781; and April 4, 1792, the 
latter conveyed a thousand acres of land to the State, 
upon which the city of Raleigh now stands. Joel 
Lane was a descendant of Sir Raljih Lane, of En- 
gland; and his descendants have lived in North Car- 
olina from 1720 to the present time. Mrs. Gentry is 
a " Daughter of the Confederacy " and commissioner 
from "Williamson Countj^ for the Tennessee Centen- 
nial. She is a gracious woman of stately person- 
ality; and her suburban home, " Maplehurst," is the 
seat of elegant hospitality. Miss Susie Gentr^^ the 
only child of Dr. and Mrs. Gentry-, is a D. A. R. and 
representative from her county to the Woman's 
Board of the Centennial. On her paternal side she is 
a descendant of Louis Stockell, an officer in Queen 
Elizabeth's household. She is a writer, musical com- 
poser, and painter; and her fascinating manner wins 
friends for her wherever she goes. 



62 Souvenir 

TWILIGHT MUSINGS. 



[To my son, Oscar.] 

fWOXDEEFUL, O beautiful, dear earth! 
So fraught with myster3' and sin and love. 
Dost linger with tliee strains sung at th3' birth 
By morning- stars throned in the blue above? 

Sure love's an echo of that holy song- 

That still remains amid thy hidden things? 

For which to solve a toiling, wear^' throng 

Have soared and sunk with futile murmurings. 

That singing bird on j^onder waving tree 

Must die, and wherefore? Sure there's some great 
cause 

That it must live, exultant, busy, free. 

Then droop and die, fulfilling nature's laws. 



The kingly tree must crumble into dust. 
E'en as the violet smiling at its base; 

O, sage philosophers, why is life thrust 

On man and bird and tree for a short space, 



Till life is dear for ghastly death to claim? 

O, g'lorious stars, in silent circles wheeling, 
Ye hold grand mysteries! Know ye Death's name? 

The fiat comes o'er eighteen centuries stealing 
That heaven — yea, heaven and earth — shall pass 

away. 
E'en as the scented, beauteous flowers of May; 



Tennessee Centennial. 63 

E'en as the cloudland castles, sunset's bowers, 
Begirt with golden turret and blue moat, 

Fade out and flee with ancient Night, where cowers 
The monster whose dread arrows send afloat 

On Styx some soul each hour. With sages wise, 
Talk all of heat waves, light waves, demonstra- 
tions; 

They show no path that leads up to the skies. 
Where is no death. Unto the starving nations 

They break no bread of life; no healing streams 
Point out to wayworn, bleeding feet that falter 

Along earth's pathway. Lo! afar there gleams 
For poor mortality Hope's glorious altar, 

Whose base is earth, whose crown's beyond the stars; 

And thoug-h we solved the mysteries here which 
pass 
Man's power and those of heaven's silver cars, 

We are as cymbals or as sounding brass; 
Without the heavenly robe of meek-eyed love. 
Can gain no entrance to the courts above. 




64 



Souvenir 




MRS. MARTHA JOHNS NICHOL. 



Tennessee: Centennial. 65 



MES. MARTHA JOHNS NICHOL. 

Mrs. Nichol is eligible as a Daughter of the Amer- 
ican llevolution and Colonial Dame, having descend- 
ed from Bishop Johns, of Virginia, who gave valuable 
assistance to the colonists. On her maternal side she 
conies from Stephen Hopkins, one of the signers of 
the Declaration of Independence. Their descend- 
ants founded the Johns Hopkins University. In her 
early girlhood she married J. D. B. DeBow, who was 
known at home and abroad as the distinguished ed- 
itor of DeBow's Review, the only purely literary pe- 
riodical that ever succeeded in the South. In three 
years death cut short this happy un'on; and some 
years later ISIrs. DeEow married Dr. W. L. Nichol, 
one of the most noted physicians in the State. She 
has a courtly presence, is a polished conversational- 
ist, and adapts herself to circumstances everywhere. 
Mrs. Nichol is an invaluable member of the Wom- 
an's Board of the Centennial, being very energetic in 
the work even amid the press of social engagements 
in her select circle. She has four children — three of 
her first marriage, and one of the latter, Mr. W. L. 
Nichol, Jr., who hopes to have his father's professional 
mantle fall on his shoulders; Mr. J. D. B. DeBow, one 
of the most prominent young lawyers of the Nashville 
bar; Mr. B. L. DeBow, a leading lawyer, resident at 
Seattle, Wash.; and the lovely and accomplished Mrs. 
J. W. Thomas, wife of the president of the Nashville, 
Chattanooga, and St, Louis Railway. 



66 Souvenir 

FAREWELL TO THE OLD YEAR. 

^\ HUSHED are the song's of the birds, and the 
^® skies 

Weep sad tears o'er each faded wreath! 
Low dirg-es in dismantled forests arise 

For the year that has gone to his death. 

Ushered in witli exultant rejoicing-, Old Year, 

You came to us glorious and young", 
With fond visions giowing-, no sorrowing" fear 

Intermixed with the g-ay song's you sung". 

Many hopes have been born and decayed like the 
leaves 

That ride on the drear, wintry blast; [sheaves. 

And many been crowned with fruition — brig"ht 

In the pathway' of happiness cast. 

How blithely you smiled on the sweet, blushing bride 
And the groom at the altar of love, [glide 

Hearts enchanted with beautiful strains that e'er 
Down the ages from Eden's g-reen grove! 

And — alas! — with your breezes have mingled th© 
sig-hs 
Of breaking" hearts uttering" no wails, 
Hearts that longed for broad pinions to spread and 
uprise 
And float free on the strength of your g-ales; 

And sweet notes of sympathy ever you sung" 
When darling" ones sunk 'neath the sod; 

You whispered of hope till the sad hearts upsprung- 
And seized on the promise of God, 



Tknnkssee Ckntenniai,. 67 

That promise of a home that may cheer every soul 
That gropes through the valley of tears, 

A home in that country whose treasures unroll 
Far over the silvery spheres. 

Then a fond, tender farewell we bid you, Old Year, 

And greet the New Year wuth a song; 
And though he may bring to us many a tear, 
Blight our frames, like your foliage, yellow and sere, 

May our hearts through all years remain young. 



MIDWINTEE. 

7 ITHILE I sit here by my fireside 

Grieving over hopes just slain, 
Drearily the frozen raindrops 
Surge against my windowpane. 

Through the great, snow-mantled city. 
How the people come and go! 

And I hear the banshee keening 
Just outside my studio — 

Keening here at my sky parlor, 

"Where I've worked and earned a fame, 

Earned a fame unsatisfying; 

Two broad continents know my name 

Waves of gold have swept unto me 
Through the siren's trumpet tongue; 

And an hour ago Love's sweetest, 
Dearest visions round me clung. 



68 Soirv^ENiR 

Lying" near this famous painting- 
Are the dainty cards embossed — 

His and hers,; they bid me g-o and 
Witness what my soul has lost. 

Thrice o'er refined the cruelty 
To see her trail her robes of lace 

Along- the aisle's rich carpeting 
Unto the holy altar place; 

To see the tiara of diamonds 

Glitt«r in her dusky hair, 
Hear her breathe a a^ow that's perjured 

At that sacred altar there! 

Months have passed since we tog-ether 
Walked beside the sunlit sea, 

Where she softly, shyly whispered 
Vows of constancy to me. 

O, the white-capped waves were sing-ing-, 
Sing-ing- as they struck the shore! 

O, delicious breathed the roses 

When she said: "Yours evermore! " 

Eoses — ah, here lies a cluster 

Jiist like those! I'll fling- them out, 

Out into the freezing" tempest; 

There! my g-rief they shall not flout. 

Gracious form and mouth of sweetness. 
Rows of pearls — O how she sang-! 

Ah, into my very spirit 

Struck a viper's deadly fang*. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 69 

Yes, I walked in a fool's heaven; 

O, the stars, they seemed to sing-, 
As upon her taper finger 

I did slip a solitaire ring! 

Gorgeously September's banners 

Floated on the mist-hung hills; 
Love's divinest tunes were stealing 

From the bosoms of the rills. 

Madrigals were sung by grosbeaks 
'Xeath the scarlet coverts there. 

Where I kissed the golden sunbeams 
Tangled in her dusky hair. 

O, the clear, dream-haunted river 
That, with shallow, eddying flirts, 

Laughing past its sedgy margins, 
Tucking round the village skirts. 

Where we floated and she looked so 
Charming in her boating' guise! 

All the earth was bathed in glory. 
Swinging in the starry skies. 

O, she loved me! but it's over; 

For the hour is now gone by 
For the nuptials, and she's stained her 

White soul with an awful lie — 

Lied to God, and spurned a love she 

Could not gauge, while centuries rolled; 

A millionaire some twenty times has 
Bought her beauty with his gold. 



70 Souvenir 

A portiere of painted velvet 

'Xeath an arch was swept aside, 

And the artist's youthful brother 
Entered with impatient stride. 

*'Fred., what are you doing- here this 
Day of days in study deep? 
Sure this is no time for painting-; 
On my word, the man's asleep! 

"Three hours hence you are to marry; 
'Phonse is mad at your delay; 
Ho! old boy, your eyes are shining" — 
Yes, you're happy; come, away! " 

• • • 

A REMINISCENCE. 

yiTlTH children g-rouped about his feet, 

I saw him stand that day; 
While in the church stole perfumes sweet 
Upon the breath of May. 

A host had gathered there that hour — 
The ag-ed, the fair, the youth — 

To hear this man of wondrous power * 
Proclaim the g-osj^el truth. 

His voice rose from the sacred place 

In humble, fervent prayer: 
And — O! — the lig-ht that from his face 

Beamed forth upon us there. 



*The late Dr. Broadus, of Louisville, Ky. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 71 

It was the Holy Spirit's light 

Indwelling' in his soal 
From jasijer walls reflected brig-ht, 

His ransomed spirit's goal! 

His eyes swept o'er the youthful group 

That clustered round his feet; 
I think the angels well might stoop 

To hear such accents sweet: 

'Live, boys, for the glory of our God; 

For the good of men — O! — live. 
Then for life's race you'll be well sITbd; 

His peace to you he'll give." 
Eemember what the old man said; 

O, boys, remember true — 
Yes, take the words when I am dead; 

Life, joy, they'll give to you. 
Who could forget his words so mild, 

So humble, yet so grand? 
In their simplicity a child 

Could surely understand. 
Alas! my friends, upon his like 

We may not look again; 
Death loves a shining mark to strike — 

One more grand hero's slain. 
The church weejis sore this fallen man, 

But she lifts tearful praise; 
To heaven's courts he's just outran 

Us, friends, by a few days. 
A little while, and we shall be 

With him at Jesus' feet; 
We'll stand beside the crystal sea, 

Our bliss will be complete. 



n 



Souvenir 





i 






»^ 


^^Hl^^^ 




** 1 


■^^HlA^.>' 




^ 


^>THP^ 




K 


M^^'' 






^' 


01> 










i 



MISS MARY BOYCE TEMPLE. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 73 



MISS MARY BOYCE TEMPLE. 

Miss Temple is a Daug-liter of the American Revolu- 
tion, being" descended on her maternal side from 
Capt. Samuel Craig-, who served under Washington 
in the Revolutionary War. Her great-great-g-randfa- 
ther, Maj. Temple, fought under Sevier at King's 
Mountain. She is Reg-ent of the Bonny Kate Chaj)ter 
of D. A. R., and Secretary of the Federation of Wom- 
an's Clubs, also Vice President of East Tennessee for 
the W^oman's Department of the Centennial. She 
has always been foremost in every movement for the 
advancement of woman's work in her city. Her fa- 
ther, Judge O. P. Temple, was for years Chancellor 
in his district, and no one ever wore more spotless 
ermine than he. She is a woman of fine presence 
and rare attractions, and does the honors of her 
stately home with a grace peculiarly her own. Ex- 
tensive travel abroad has given her fine advantages. 
She is one of the alumni of Vassar College. 



74 Souvenir 

A CELESTIAL MARRIAGE. 

[VA'ritten in January, 1889, when Mars and Venus were in conjunc- 
tion.] 

p\ AVE you heard, have you heard of the wedding- 

(9 That has just taken place up above, 
Where a fair bride, her grand train outspreading 
In the empurpled dome, 
And a brave martial groom 
Have assumed the bonds precious of love? 

'Twas the night of the second of January 

The right royal nuptials took place. 
Uranus sent looks cold and wary; 
But Alcyone up there 
Smiled on the fond pair, 
And Virginis the marriage did grace. 

The long summer they've been coquetting- 
In the sight of all earth. She did beam; 
And he, his great w^ar plans forg-etting. 
Left his bugle horn mute 
And caught up a lute 
And caroled of love's g-olden dream. 

That gossip, young Mercury, first told it 

To Pallas and Ceres — the loiit; 
The fond, loving tale, could they hold it? 
Then some light, chattering- Poll 
Quick went and told Sol, 
And — lo! — the whole secret was out. 

Perched on Hydra was old Xox, the sable, 
And Corvus, with blear, evil eyes; 



Tennessee Centennial, 75 

To approve of such joy were unable. 
They veiled their dark faces 
Before such rare graces 
As those that streamed out in the skies. 

Old Saturn, the dreary-faced Satyr, 

Blinked and frowned and made up such a face 

That Xeptune cried out: "What's the matter?" 
Then the ringed, envious hack, 
With g"reen eyes, shouted back: 

"The War-g-od is running- a race." 

Then benevolent Jupiter, beaming-. 

Cried: " Hush! let the brave have the fair! " 
Then Earth smiled; and some g-rand comets, 
streaming- 

Their glorious g-races 
In still remote spaces, 
In all the brig-ht talk took a share. 

Why, even the proud Cynosura 

Almost turned her eyes from the Bear 
To see how fair Venus did lure her 
Great Mars to her feet, 
With love's g-arlands sweet; 
Even Orion smiled on the pair. 

Now she's floating- eastward; he's lag-g-ing", 

But still on the same way they move. 
They're mutually drawn; love's not flag-g^ing". 
Their fond vows they keep 
As royally they sweep 
Through the empurpled deep 
In the strong, golden bonds of God's love. 



76 



Souvenir 




MRS. ELIZABETH CARUTHERS EWING. 



Tennesskb Centknniai,. 77 



MKS. ELIZABETH CARUTHEES EWING. 

Mrs. Ewing is eligible as a Daughter of the Amer- 
ican Eevolution, being- descended from Ethan Allen, 
the illustrious colonial hero. She is the daughter of 
the late Hon. Abram Caruthers, founder of the law 
school in Cumberland University, and niece of the 
late Judge Eobert L. Caruthers, of the Supreme 
Bench of the State. She married, in 1867, Capt. 
Charles M. Ewing, a leading lawyer in West Tennes- 
see, who as a soldier did gallant service in the Civil 
War in the First Tennessee Eegiment. Mrs. Ewing 
has a charming personality, fine literary tastes, and 
-an inexhaustible fund of repartee. Her only daugh- 
ter is the wife of ^\r. Ehea Cary, a talented young 
lawyer of Memphis; and her son, Caruthers, who 
married Miss Winston, of Brownsville, is a rising 
young lawyer of that city. He was page of the Sen- 
ate for several terms, and then assistant clerk. Mrs. 
Ewing is a social leader, sweet-spirited, and very pop- 
ular with all classes. " Cedarhurst," her suburban 
home, at Dresden (aptly styled the Athens of West 
Tennessee), is a beautiful place, w^iere she entertains 
distinguished guests wdth characteristic Southern 
hospitality. 



78 



SOXA'ENIR 




MRS. MARY WOOLRIDGE LATHAM. 



Tennessee: Centenniai.. 79 



MES. MARY WOOLEIDGE LATHAM. 

Mrs. Latham is a Daughter of the American Rev- 
olution and eligible to the order of Colonial Dame, 
being" the g-reat-great-g-randdaug'hter ofthe Countess 
de Yilliane, who g'ave up wealth, position, and 
friends in her devotion to the cause of American in- 
dependence. Her g-reat-grandfather did gallant serv- 
ice in the Revolutionary War, and was in the battle 
of Yorktown. Her grandfather, Col. J. B. White, was 
the intimate friend of President Monroe, and 
through him was invited by Congress to escort La- 
fayette through Kentucky during his visit to this 
country. Mrs. Latham is Director of the Children of 
the American Revolution, appointed to that office by 
Mrs. Lothrop (Margaret Sidney) some months ago. 
She is a member of the Hermitage Association, and 
is an enthusiastic worker on the Centennial Board 
for Shelby County. She is a woman of broad char- 
ities, wields a facile pen, and possesses that sweet 
graciousness and tact that fits her for a social leader. 
Her palatial home, " Roselawn," on Maple Avenue, in 
Memphis, is the scene of many elegant entertain- 
ments; and its doors are always open to the poor as 
well as the rich. She is the wife of Judge Thomas J. 
Latham, one of the most popular, successful, and 
public-spirited men of the Bluff City. 



8o Souvenir 

THEY'LL LOA'E THEE THERE. 

[To Mrs. Faunie D. Nelson, Nashville, Tennessee.] 
LADY, could I woo some strain 
From heavenly harps to sing of thee. 
Some sweet, seraphic, glad refrain 
That swells the anthems of the free! 

For — 0! — an angel's pen 'twould take 
To paint the beams that light thy face. 

Up from thy heart they ever break, 

Serenely filled with heaven's own grace. 

Even as in olden times in Wales 

Sweet waters flowed from " Holy Well," 

Whence came thy father's name,* soft gales 

From heaven sung round its mount-crowned dell. 

O lady, many, many hearts 

Just lower than the angels are. 
All feel the love thy soul imparts 

As light leaps forth from star to star; 

For if they walk in storm or fair, 
Thy sympathies they have a share. 
In peaceful, lovely pastures green, 
And by still waters' silvery sheen. 

He leadeth thee, his loved, his own; 

And there, up there before his throne, 

'Mid jasper walls and lilies fair, 

They'll love thee there, they'll love thee there! 



*The name Howell, it is said, from which descended the eminent 
divine, R. B. C. Howell, D.D., was originally derived from a spring 
in Wales called " Holv Well." 



Tennessee Centennial. Si 

PYGMALION. 

fHE Pleiades faded; Orion's bright belt 
In th' deep, purple heavens was paling", 
A sculptor all night at a gray fane had knelt; 
The faint breath of morning his cold cheek now- 
felt, 
For white mists the far east were scaling. 

He saw birds of prey on still pinions flit home, 

And the sun his red lances upflinging 
On grim, lonely tower and great marble dome, 
Inhaled the soft breeze from a garden's rich bloom. 
And heard the gay lark's happy singing. 

A moment he paused in the dew-laden air. 

Then threaded the valley of roses, 
With impatient gesture tossed back the brown hair 
From a brow on w^hich lay the grim seal of despair 

Dark as night that without a star closes. 

His great artist soul was consumed with a love, 
A yearning intense, more heart-crushing' 

Than Crete's daughter felt in fair Naxos' green 
grove. 

Where she, in mad anguish, deserted, did rove, 
When Theseus to Athens was rushing. 

His deep, piercing eye heeded not the bright morn, 
Nor the blossoms his footsteps were spurning; 

His deadly w^hite features were weary and worn; 

Of joy and beauty his young life was shorn 
By the flame in his sad bosom burning. 
6 



82 Souvenir 

He bowed his proud head on his broad, heaving- 
bi east, 

And slowly his studio entered — 
The studio where he had won fame's brilliant crest^ 
Where now stood a statue by sunbeams caressed, 

The statue on which his soul centered. 

'Twas wondrously beautiful, limbs full and round 

As were Venus's from the foam risen, 
Her air chaste as Dian's, her rich hair unbound 
Majestic as Juno; the proud head was crowned: 
"If this marble a warm soul could prison." 

'Twas the cry of the sculptor, as prostrate he 
bowed 
At the feet of the statue, cold, senseless: 
" O Jove, whose pavilion is Are and cloud, 
Hear my prayer, or in death this worn form en- 
shroud; 
Bow thine ear to a mortal defenseless. 



Right into Olympian g-lories I'd wing- 

My petition. Thou knowest my dreaming". 
Jove, into this marble insensate O bring 
A warm soul! Bliss eternal away I would fling 
To see those cold eyes with soul beaming." 

His eyes sought the statue; he slowly uprose. 

Lo! the pure face with blushes is burning; 
A rich, rosy tide through the azure veins flows; 
The fair bosom heaves; life's wild rapture glows 

In the soft, violet eyes upward turning. 



TENNKSSKE CknTEnniai.. 83 

A beautiful rose hue dawned over the frame, 

And golden g-rew the rich tresses. 
Her eye sought the sculptor, and love's burning 

flame 
Filled her breast; she leaned tow^ard him, and o'er 
her face came 
Smiles as tender as Cupid's caresses. 

He sprung to her side with a cry of delight; 

Eealized was his glorious vision; 
The marble he'd chiseled through many a night 
\Yas a warm, breathing form, glowing womanhood 
bright; 

He was steeped in joys elysian. 






Souvenir 




MRS. IsOVELLA DAVIS MARKS. 



Tennessee; Centenniai,. 85 



:\IES. XOYELT^A DAVIS :\rARKS. 

iMrs. Marks is eligible to the orders of Daughters of 
the Ameriean Revolution and Colonial Dame, being- 
descended from John Williamson, who fought at the 
age of fifteen under Gen. Greene. On her maternal 
side she comes from the Clydes and Scotts, of Scot- 
land. The latter gave Sir Walter to literature. Her 
great-grandfather, Evan Davis, fought at King's 
Mountain. Her grandfather, Thomas Davis, was a 
wealthy, leading citizen of Wilson County. Jefferson 
Davis, President of the Confederacy^ was a grand- 
nephew of Evan Davis. Her father was John Davis, 
who served in the Legislatures of 1859, 1860, and 1861, 
and was a cavalry officer in the Civil War, his battal- 
ion opening the battle of Perr3^ville. She comes also 
from the Hunters, of Virginia, and the Drakes and 
Bridges, of Xorth Carolina. Francis Drake came to 
Southampton, Va., 250 years ago. He w^as a son of 
Bamfield Drake and nephew to Sir Francis Drake, 
the navigator. ]\rrs. Marks is First Vice Regent of the 
Hermitage Association, and she has helped largely to 
place it on the firm basis that it to-day occupies. 
She is the widow of the late exgovernor, A. S. Marks, 
honored for his upright public career and private 
virtues. She entered heartily into her husband's as- 
pirations, keeping herself acquainted with the polit- 
ical questions of the day. She is graceful and at- 
tractive, and beloved by the circle of friends of which 
she is the center. 



86 



Souvenir 




MRS. KATHERINE CANTRELL EASTMAN. 



Tennessee Centenniai,. 87 



MRS. KATHE'RINE CAXTRELL EASTMAN. 

Mrs. Eastman is a Daug'hter of the American Rev- 
olution and eligible as a Colonial Dame, being de- 
scended from Gen. William White, a Revolutionary 
hero, and William Cantrell, who came from England 
with John Smith in the bark Phoenix to Virginia in 
1608. In June of that year he, in company with oth- 
er gentlemen, made important explorations along 
the Chesapeake Bay. He was a w^riter, and fur- 
nished important notes to the history of those times. 
There is in the Xashville Historical Society a muster 
roll of Capt. Stephen Cantrell's company, who fought 
in the Revolutionary War, written in his own hand- 
writing-. The roll is highly prized by the societj^ 
as it is the onl}- original one that was preserved. 
Mrs. Eastman has traveled extensively in Europe 
and the East. She is a strikingly beautiful w^oman, 
of tine literary acumen; and her high culture, to- 
gether with her engaging, gracious manner, eminent- 
ly fits her for leadership in her select circle. 



3 Souvenir 

LINES 

TO MRS. EDWARD H. EAST. 

^2\ LADY, we had climbed life's upward slope, 
[^ Were drifting" toward the rosy sunset tides, 
Ere we did meet; and now, with happy hope, 
We're anchored to that home where joy abides. 

Memories trooping- come of bygone years; 

O, I sung- care free in the bowers of youth, 
But later wept most bitter tears, 
So manj^ loved ones left for heavenlj' spheres 

Who'd faithful pointed me to paths of truth. 

At that time Doubt rose with her fearsome " No " 
(With you, my friend, I trust 'twas never so), 

And flung- her sable wrapping o'er my soul; 
And while I g-azed in that abyss of woe, 

A black pall clothed the w^orld from pole to pole. 

I may not tell the bitterness I felt — 

Ah, no; for words would fail to paint it rig-ht — 
As, tossed with fears, at that dark fane I knelt. 

Unmindful of the heaven's stars of light. 
Unmindful that thej^ ever sing on as they shine: 
' The glorious hand that made us is divine." 

Dark groped the days. At last the summers rose. 
And sung of hope; and roses bloomed again. 

Sweet as the spicy breeze that plaintive blows 
Amid the bowers of your own native plain. 

And then Faith strung again her golden lyre. 

And swept the strings and sung her sweet, sweet 
song; 

And black Doubt crouched upon her funeral pyre. 
And Peace around my soul her garlands flung; 



Tennessee Centennial. 89 

And when I saw you in the Senate hall — 

Your lustrous eye and classic brow of Greece — 

And heard 3'ou plead for g-irlhood's rights in all, 
I recognized a white soul crowned with peace. 

And so, dear lady, when your footsteps come 
Beside the river of life, so pure and clear. 

You'll have your sure reward in that bright home 
For taking up the cause of girlhood here. 

Nashville, January 30, 1892. 

• • • 
THE SILVER MEDAL. 

[Written on John Somers, Jr. (aged ten), receiving a silver medal 
for scholarship and deportment at the High School at Dresden, 
Tenn.] 
^5^EAE, bo3% fair childhood's deep, cerulean skies 

Are bending softly o'er thy pathway now; 
And a fond father's speaking, adoring eyes 
Dwell proudly on thy frank, ingenious brow. 

Filled with fair childhood's simple trust and truth. 
Thy bosom heaves with true and honest pride; 

While just beyond lie Enna meads of j^outh, 

And fond, bright dreams before thy vision glide. 

O, John, life holds not many hours like these. 
And Enna meads of youth soon glide away! 

Thou, too, must bow to nature's stern decrees; 
O, boy, choose for thy guiding star, I pray, 

That one which shone o'er Bethlehem's still height; 

And when hoar age shall steal upon thy way. 
And earth's cares dim thy spirit's joyous light, 

"Twill guide thy footsteps to eternal day. 



so 



SOIR'ENIR 




MISS SUSIE GENTRY, 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 91 



JO LIE J ANTE RAY. 



Q\ JOLIE Janie Ray! 
[q Come, listen, I say, 
To this fond little lay. 

From what lovely clime 
Have you flown, Janie Ray, 
To the realms of old time, 
O'er our hearts to hold sway? 

You've caught from the skies 
Some blue for your eyes; 
You've caug-ht from the rose 
For your cheeks lovely glows, 

O, Jolie Janie Ray, 
We are happy and gay 
At sight of your smiles. 
Your dimples, and wiles! 

You're dainty, 3'ou're fair, 
Jolie Janie sweet. 
From your soft, silken hair 
To your wee rosy feet. 

O, Jolie Janie Ray, 

I love you! I pray 

God may bless you alway. 



Souvenir 




MRS. MARTHA MOORE ALLEN. 



Mrs. Allen is elig-ible as a Daughter of the Amer- 
ican Revolution and Colonial Dame, being- a lineal 
descendant of Moses Porter, Ensign Sixth Massachu- 
setts, 1777; Lieutenant Third Continental Artillery,. 



Tennessee Centenniaiv. 93 

April, 1779; Lieutenant United States Artillery Bat- 
talion, October, 1786; Cajitain First x\rtillery, ^May, 
1794; Major of the Twenty-sixth Artillery, May, 1800; 
Colonel Light Artillery, March 12, 1812; Brevet ted 
Brigadier General, Sept. 10, 1812. Mrs. Allen comes 
of the ]\Ioores of Eevolutionary fame. Her g-reat- 
grandfather, Andrew Moore, came from Wales, and 
was a kinsman of Sir Thomas Moore, the i^oet. She 
is also a lineal descendant of the DeVeres, of En- 
g'land, and has as much stamina in her make-up as 
Aubrey DeVere, twentieth Earl, who refused to aid 
King James II. in j)acking a Parliament, and was 
dismissed from the court thereupon. Mrs. Allen is 
an enthusiastic temperance worker, having taught a 
night school in this city for more than a year, under 
the auspices of the Central W. C. T. U., being the 
treasurer when that union was first organized, and 
was afterwards president of a local union in Xorth 
Nashville. The State Convention elected her alter- 
nate to the National Convention, which met in Nash- 
ville; and she acted as delegate, the elected member 
failing to come. When the National Convention met 
in Denver some years afterwards, she was the only 
delegate elected from this State, and journeyed 
across the plains to the foot of Pike's Peak in that 
official capacity. She is a good writer, and a fre- 
quent contributor to the daily press; has finished 
several Chautauquan courses, and holds certificates 
for the -same. Her husband, Mr. J. D. Allen, is a 
lumber dealer, and has large lumber interests, in 
connection with their son, Junius Allen, in Mem- 
phis and Arkansas. Mrs. Allen has a handsome, at- 
tractive presence; and her fine conversational pow- 
ers and cordial manner make for her hosts of friends. 



94 



Souvenir 




MISS EAST. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 95 

A TENNESSEE HEROINE. 

TITIDENING slowly the Cumberland crept 

^^ Out of its banks; from the frozen North 

swept 
Cold winds; and swift from the mountain came 

down 

Swollen streams, 
Where the eagle screams, 
Defying nature's frown. 

Sheeted with ice were the dim, lonely tarns, 
Shelter the lowing kine sought in the barns; 
In mansion and cot the inmates stayed 
From bleak, bitter winds that, like sleuthhounds, 
bayed, 

And blighted each crocus's golden star 

That would fain hint of summer days yet afar. 

Not every one stayed in their homes that day; 
For a youth of fifteen, who delights in the play 
Of the sweeping wind and the dashing wave. 
Comes forth their grim, wild freaks to brave.. 
His canoe lightlj' shoots o'er the backw^aters wide, 
And soon gains the river's white, frothing tide; 
A moment longer the boat flies swift. 
And is then capsized in some floating drift. 

Young Comer Hall, 

Athletic and tall, 

Chilled to the bone, 

Makes no moan. 
But beats his way, like a hero brave. 
To a submerged isle, where some treetops wave. 



96 Souvenir 

Clinging to these, 

Where the waters freeze, 

Young Comer sees 
His mother and sister flying down, 
Wringing their hands in fear that he'll drown. 

A while they stand and moan and weep. 

Where the cold backwaters, widening, creep; 

Then up the hill the sister flies; 

Into the old gra^^ barn she hies; 

Porth she comes with a strong-limbed steed, 

To the river pulls him with all her speed. 

Onlj- haltered he, 

Xever faltered she, 

As on the bank. 

Freezing and dank, 
Off her warm outer clothing she tore, 
And a holy purpose her sweet eyes wore; 
While her fresh, young voice keyed soft and high: 
*' ^Mother, I'll save my brother or die." 

Out through the bitter flood she sweeps, 
Past where the old dead driftwood leaps. 
She urges the horse. She gains the isle. 
No grander form down the ages file 

Than this maid, I ween. 

This girl of thirteen. 

She grasps her brother with a strong hand there; 
He bestrides the horse with a worn, spent air; 
The neighbors gathered; glad shouts ring o'er 
The surging stream as they turn to the shore. 
Doubly burdened, the hoof strokes slack; 
7 



Tennessee Centennial. 97 

But landward brother and sister float; 
Her hair, sweeping- heavily down her back, 

Touches the gallant steed's sodden coat. 
Close clasped in thanksgiving is many a hand, 
As brother and sister come safe to land. 

In the long, long ago, in Coventry Street, 

Went Godiva's fleet whirl. 

Nude and pure as a pearl; 
But 'twas not such a grand, such a glorious feat 
As was ]Mica's, the Tennessee girl; 
Above her let Fame's golden banner unfurl. 



LITTLE JOHN'S REQUEST.* 

NEH! here is your Easter egg, 
^ All tied with ribbon blue; 
We'll hang it on this little peg, 
An emblem of " the true." 

We'll teep it until Tismas tomes. 

With all its difts and joys, 
That makes so b'ight the happy homes. 

And div' it to Santa Taus. 



*A boy of four summers found in November his cousin's Easter 
egg, which had been carefully kept, and thereupon he made the re- 
quest to save it to give to Santa Claus. 



q8 




MRS. SARAH EWING GAUT. 



Tennessee Centennial. 99 



MRS. SARAH EWIXG GAUT. 

Mrs. Gaut is a Daughter of the American Revolu- 
tion, being" tlie gTanddaugiiter of Capt. Alexander 
Ewing, who fought in the Revolutionary War. She 
is also a lineal descendant of Lord Russell, of En- 
g-land, whose grandson was in the battle of King-'s 
^Mountain. Mrs. Gaut is a member of the Hermitage 
Association, an active worker on the Centennial 
Board, State Treasurer of the Daug-hters of the Con- 
federacy, and Vice President of the Nashville chapter 
of that society. She did as much as any other wom- 
an in the State to assist and nurse the wounded dur- 
ing- the Civil V\'ar. Formerly a social leader, a beau- 
ty, and a belle, she has given place to Miss Sadie Mc- 
Fadden,her granddaughter,one of the most attractive 
young ladies in the city. Mrs. Gaut has two children 
living — Mrs. Judge R. X. Richardson, of Franklin, 
Tenn., and ]\[r. William Carter, a son by a former 
marriage, who is connected with the Tennessee Coal 
and Iron Company, at South Pittsburg, Tenn. His 
wife was the charming ]Miss Xarcissa Cotnam, of 
]\[arion County. Another highly respected- son, the 
late Mr. Joseph Carter, who was connected with 
the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, left three in- 
teresting children. His wife was Miss French, of 
this city. This young man's death and that of Mrs. 
McFadden has but served to intensify the lovely 
qualities of this woman of the old, aristocratic re- 
gime of the South. She is the widow of the late 
Judge Gaut, noted alike for his unswerving integrity 
on the bench as well as in his private life. 



Souvenir 




MRS. ANN ELIZA GARDNER STEPHENS. 



T^NNESSKE CENTENNIAIv. 



MRS. ANN ELIZA GARDNER STEPHENS. 

Mrs. Stephens is eligible as a Daughter of the Rev- 
olution and a Colonial Dame by right of her descent 
from John Hampton, of South Carolina, who was 
captain of a company of South Carolina Dragoons in 
1779. Her paternal great-grandfather was Capt. 
James Gardner, of North Carolina, who entered the 
army in May, 1776, and served till the close of hos- 
tilities. Mrs. Stephens is the wife of Dr. James B. 
Stephens, one of Nashville's most prominent and suc- 
cessful physicians. Possessing fine conversational 
powers and a fund of rare good humor, as well as a 
heart filled with sweet charity, she is the charming 
center of a large circle of admiring friends that 
reaches the length and breadth of the State. She is 
a member of the Pi'imitive Baptist Church and a 
Kentuckian by birth. 



Souvenir 
THE SPRINGTIME OF YOUTH. 



A beautiful spot in the journey of life 
Is the gay, golden springtime of youth! 
Its fair, sunny days free from sorrow and strife, 
Its valley with perfumes of roses is rife^ 
Overwatched by the spirit of truth; 

For Love trails his garlands along the bright ways, 
And there breathes his fond, faithful vows; 

O, sweetly they mingle with the nightingale's lays! 

And the sun of pure happiness sheds his soft rays 
On the altar before which he bows; 

For the fell ghoul, Mistrust, there uplifts not his 
head, 

And the mountains of sin are unknown; 
Upon its green groves dews of silver are shed. 
And o'er it the wings of Content are outspread, 

And 'tis girdled with Faith's precious zone. 

In this beautiful springtime a maiden once walked 

More lovely than Houri's dream, 
When there came to her side a brave, fond youth, 

who talked 
Of a glorious future. Hearts and hands interlocked 

And they launched on Love's murmuring stream — 

That murmuring stream that more beautiful grows 

As it reaches the gray hills of age. 
Where Heaven's own breath o'er its pure bosom 

blows. 
And the garlands that wreathe it assume brighter 
glows. 
As it sweeps through its last earthly stage. 



Tennesske CentenniaIv. 103 

Where its brig-ht waters mirror the fair gates of 
pearl, 

On their hinges of gold ever swinging; 
There the perfumes of censers forever npcurl, 
And lilies beside w^alls of jasper unfurl, 

And anthems of praises are ringing. 

The fond, youthful pair gently rocked with the tide. 
Fanned by zephyrs that strayed through the vale, 
Oft moored their light bark to the waters' green side 
To pluck the sweet blossoms, the fragrant vale's 
pride; 
But those that she gathered grew pale; 

For a specter peered there from each flowering 
wreath. 

And fastened his gaze on the bride. 
O God, at his coming cold grows mortal breath! 
She shuddered; the grim, fleshless finger of Death 

Did beckon her there to his side. 

O dread, silent battle, so sad when 'tis fought 

In youth's own sweet, roseate vale. 
When each circling hour some new bliss hath 

brought, 
When life, with a foretaste of heaven, is fraught, 

And joy bells ring out on each gale! 

Then the young husband rose in the might of his 
love. 

His bride from the specter to wrest; 
With devotion akin to the powers above. 
He bore her away to the far, classic grove, 

To the fountains and palms of the East. 



I04 Souvenir 

Italia's soft breezes swept o'er her frail frame, 

And the specter was hid from her eyes; 
And a still fairer loveliness o'er her face came, 
As she gazed at the setting* sun's banners of flame 
In those wondrously beautiful skies. 

And down the broad Corso full often they strayed, 

Or paused at some obelisk or fount, 
Lingered by some old wall on which lay the deep 

shade 
Of centuries, or looked on the dim haze that played 

Around some far, classic mount. 

Thej' stopped 'neath triumphal arches, and paused 

In some old ruin's soft, somber shade 
For long' hours together. Their faithful hearts 

roused 
To new fervor; they felt their souls closer espoused, 

As, kneeling, they fervently prayed; 

And when the Campagna her red wreaths uphung. 

And purple and gold grew each glen. 
Their faces turned southward, where Dante first 

strung 
His magical harp and such numbers outflung, 

As made all the nations akin. 



She the specter forgot in the vintage-hung vales, 

Where they strolled in the eve's holy hush 
Or swept o'er the Arno, when odorous gales 
Sung of joy and hope, as they filled the white sails 
And fanned her fair face to a blush. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 105 

And, singing some gay barcarolle as they sped 

Along o'er the translucent tide, 
She gathered the drifting leaves, golden and red, 
That o'erhanging trees on the bright waters shed, 

More happy than when first a bride. 

What of him? O, his heart swelled with paeans of 
praise 

To Him who had brought back the bloom 
To his fond darling's face, the sweet light of his days. 
Who cheerily joined in the bulbul's glad lays 

In fair Vallombrosa's rich gloom. 

The royal years sped, full of life's richest wines; 

And their home was a grand palace old, 
Where, through mullioned windows, the golden sun 

shines; 
And, towering high, were the great Apennines, 

Like a shepherd o'erwatching his fold. 

Came a time when the specter stood there at the 
door. 

And, with ghostly tread, crossed to her side; 
The moonlight fell white on the cold, marble floor; 
Her soul floated out to the heavenly shore. 

And the husband wept o'er his dead bride. 

'Neath the Apennines' shadow they made her a tomb. 

Where roses smile all the long year; 
And the husband there waits for the specter to come 
And call him away from the deep, lonely glooms 
Up, up, where the springtime of youth ever blooms, 

Where Christ wipes away ev'ry tear. 



io6 



Souvenir 




MRS. ANN HILL SNYDER. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 107 



MRS. AXX HILL SNYDER. 

Mrs Snyder is elig-ible as a Daug-hter of the Revolu- 
tion by rig-ht of her descent from the Robertsons of 
Revolutionary fame. Her grandmother was the 
daughter of General James Robertson, the founder 
of Nashville. She is Chairman of the Library Com- 
mittee in the Woman's Department of the Centennial, 
a place for which she is well fitted, as much of her 
time has been devoted to literature. " My Scrap 
Book," a compilation by her of prose and poetry, is a 
fine volume; " The Civil War," from a Southern 
standpoint, and " On the W^atauga and the Cumber- 
land " are valuable works from her pen. Her hus- 
band served in the commissary department of the 
Confederate Army, while she for three years was 
President of the Tennessee Relief Association, which 
worked in Atlanta and Macon, Ga., the Federals hav- 
ing* possession of Nashville. She is in the rig-ht 
place, for she is an indefatig-able worker in the in- 
terests of the library; and unqualified success is 
crowning" her efforts, which will be fully realized 
when the library is thrown open. 



io8 



Souvenir 




MRS MARY CURREY DORRIS. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 109 



MRS. MARY CURREY DORRIS. 

Mrs. Dorris is a Daughter of the American Rev- 
olution, being" descended from Jolm Donelson, mem- 
ber of the House of Burgesses and colonel in the 
Revolutionary War. He rendered important services 
in the survey of Virginia, Kentucky, and Tennessee. 
Col. Donelson brought the first families down the 
Tennessee and up the Cumberland and settled Nash- 
ville. 'Mrs. Dorris organized the Hermitage Associa- 
tion, and has for years been an indefatigable worker, 
with the Regent, Mrs. Baxter, in furthering its inter- 
ests, holding the position of secretary since its in- 
ception. She is also Secretary of the Cumberland 
Chapter of the D. A. R. She is an enthusiastic mem- 
ber of the Woman's Board, and a fine Avriter, news- 
paper correspondent, a Presbyterian, and very ac- 
tive in church work. 



no Souvenir 

OUK BOB. 

[Recited by little Annie Gilchrist at Governor Taylor's third 
inauguration, January 14, 1897.] 

(f\ GOVERXOE of Tennessee, 
^0 Again the j)eople hail you Ijere 
To rule our State so grand and free 
Beginning this Centennial year! 

In lowly cot and lordly hall 

Fond, loyal hearts beat strong for you; 
And grave and gay and great and small 

Hail our grand chief so brave and true. 

I think that flag more gladl}- flings 
Its stars and stripes out on the air, 

For hope in many a sad heart sings 

That erstwhile groped in dark despair. 

Your clemency to captive cells 

Goes in and lifts the shadows drear; 

It breaks up Sorrow's leaden spells 
And hangs Hope's rosy chaplet there. 

O, many a sorrowing heart you cheer 
With humor rare and happy flow. 

Of eloquence fond memories stir 
At strains of " Fiddle and the Bow." 

Your silver notes the people swaj^ 
Laughter and tears the hour rules; 

Old care is whistled swift away 
Amid your " Paradise of Fools." 



Tennessee Centennial. hi 

Now to our knightly chief, all hail! 

May wisdom guide our Ship of State! 
May truth and honor fill her sail, 

And victory on her pennants wait! 

Now once again to these grand halls 

We welcome you — O happy State, 
That you were mindful of her calls, 

And always kind to small and great. 

Because to you her honors dear 

As in your own life's rich, red blood. 

We pray for you this glad New Year 
The choicest blessings of our God. 






Souvenir 




MISS HARRIET MARSHALL. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 113 



MISS HARllIET MARSHALL * 

Miss Marshall was eligible as a Colonial Dame and 
Daughter of the American Eevolution, tracing her 
lineage directly back on her maternal side for nine 
generations to Samuel Richardson, who was born in 
England, in 1610, and came, with Grovernor Winthrop, 
to America in 1630. He was one of the founders of 
Woburn, Massachusetts. John Richardson, his son, 
was lieutenant in the Colonial Army from 1690 to 
1697, and was in the siege of Quebec. Lieutenant 
Richardson married Miss Mary Pierson, of which 
union Jabez Richardson was born. The latter was 
united to Mehetabel Winthrop; and Rowland, their 
son, when he came of age, removed to Connecticut, 
where he married ^Miss Elizabeth Pierpoint. The 
daughter of this union, Mehetabel, married James 
Stow. Their daughter, Harriet, married Samuel 
Peck Hough, of which union w as born Miss Harriet 
Stow Hough, who is Mrs. Andrew Marshall, of Nash- 
ville, and the mother of the subject of this sketch. 
Rowland Richardson, of Connecticut, served in the 
Revolutionary War, and entertained General Wash- 
ington at the Richardson homestead, Mehetabel 
Stow, at that time quite a little girl, was wont after- 
w^ards to tell of his visit to her grandfather's, and of 
her having sat on the knee of the great general. 
Miss Marshall was a graduate of Yassar College; and 
after leaving school she continued her studies, al- 
though she was a social leader and much sought 
after. Her kindness of disposition and consideration 



*Deceased. 

8 



114 Souvenir 

for others made her a favorite wherever she went. 
She spent much time in Europe, the Holy Land, and 
Africa, traveling on horseback from Jaifa to Damas- 
cus, a distance of four hundred miles, and voyaging- 
Up the Nile. She made a pilgrimage to Oberammer- 
gau to see the " Passion Play " which the peasants 
there give ever^^ ten years. Miss ^Slarshall was a fine 
musician, wielded a facile pen, and her letters from 
abroad were seized with avidity' by the daily press. 
She was the only child of worshiping parents; the 
light, the genius, the joy of the palatial home on 
Capitol Square, so often the scene of generous hos- 
pitality. She was the atfianced bride of the son of a 
leading statesman at Washington, and life's vista 
opened brilliantly for her. The interesting and beau- 
tiful curios gathered by her in the old world will be 
shown in a special cabinet at the Centennial Exposi- 
tion. Though this lovely, gifted daughter of Ten- 
nessee will not be there, the influence of her genius 
will be felt; and her memory, like a precious aroma, 
will ever be cherished by all who had the privilege of 
her acquaintance. Many will pause at the Harriet 
Marshall cabinet and breathe a sigh that this one 
who scattered sunshine wherever she went is so soon 
departed. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 



115 




ETHE,L SOMBKS, 
At the age of thirteen, daug-hter of James Somers, 
M.D., and now the wife of Mr. Early Miller, of Galla- 
tin, Tenn. She is eligible as a Colonial Dame and 
Daug-hter of the American Revolution, being- a lineal 
descendant of Capt. John Somers, of the North Car- 
olina Volunteers. 



ii6 Souvenir 



MY LOVE. 



[Inscribed to Mrs. Ethel Somers Miller, of Gullatin, Tennessee.] 

fHEY left us in the summer weather, 
Here in the hot and dusty town; 
They roam amid the bloomy heather, 
And drive the green lanes up and down. 

When morning- dawns, to six and eighty 
The mereury goes. We use our fans. 

Forgetting' business schemes so weighty, 
Forgetting" all our pleasure plans. 

Our breakfast o'er, my love goes skipping. 
To reach his business place he's bent; 

W^hile into my cool room Fm slipping, 
Where roses fragrant odors vent. 

I read some portions of God's letter. 
Sure souls are of uncounted worth, 

And breathe a prayer that every fetter 
Be broke that binds men's souls to earth. 

Old Sol mounts higher in the heaven; 

And — O! — the mercury climbs, too, 
Until it reaches ninety-seven; 

Not one rack skims the heated blue. 

I eat my lunch an hour past nooning. 

My love eats his up in the town; 
The day upon hot paves is swooning; 

At last the fiery sun goes down. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 117 

An airy dress of white at even, 

All decked with snowy lace, I don; 

Sometimes the earth seems like a heaven— 
I hear the footsteps of my John. 

We have our tea and evening papers, 
And g-aze out on the low, blue river. 

Where slowly drift the soft, white vapons; 
With joy our fond hearts are a-quiver. 

Upon the doorstep we are sitting; 

The night is gemmed with stars serene; 
And there, amid the shadows flitting, 

I kiss my grandson of thirteen. 



WELCOME. 

^Written for the Reunion of the Confederate Veterans, June 23, 1897.] 

fO welcome you, the Southland's pride, 
O veterans, who wore the gray. 
Our city flings her portals wide 
Upon this proud and happy day. 

'Tis some more than three decades gone 
She sat amid her blasted hopes, 
Her broken homes, and made no moan. 
As one who in some nightmare gropes. 

Not long she sat. To her trust true, 

She dried her tears with haughty hand; 

She sits a queen, mid hills of blue. 
Beside the winding Cumberland. 



ii8 Souvenir 

And in this proud Centennial time, 

Boys of the gray, her thoug-hts g-o back 

To deeds of valor, grand, sublime, 

You wrought when on war's leaden track. 

With Sj)artan courage the women stood — 

Wives, mothers, sweethearts — grandest band 

Of fair, heroic womanhood 

That ever nerved a hero's hand. 

What wonder, besides the Xorthern foe 
You fought the world? It stood aghast 

To see the legions you laid low 

Where'er our Southern banner passed. 

For sacred rig'hts of home 3'ou fought. 

Americans revolt, but know 
When i:)eace they faithfully have sought, 

And see but wrong's impending blow. 

It is the freeman's heritage; 

For this we threw off England's yoke; 
The eagle roused the lion's rage. 

And then his vaunted power broke. 

Brave veterans, you're with your kind; 

We pulled out from the Old North State 
When we so minded, and we find 

Right of revolt has made us great. 

Fighters are men of Tennessee; 

For when at home there was no war 
They shouldered arms and helped to free 

From Mexic's rule the great Lone Star. 



Tennksseij Centenniai.. 119 

Leonidas at Thermopylae 

Has ceased to be a wonder now. 
For to our Southern chivalry 

The world has made its deepest bow. 

Such heroism ne'er was seen 

As yours; and now we'll drop a tear 

For those who fell; their memories g-reen. 
Brave boys in gray, we'll keep fore'er. 

Sweet be their last, long", dreamless rest, 

Their spirits to Valhalla flown; 
For deeds of valor, bravest, best. 

Their graves by g-lory's wreaths are strewn. 

Fair Nashville's proud to welcome you 

Upon this great, auspicious day; 
She prays for you, so tried and true: 

God bless the boys who wore the gray! 






Souvenir 




JOHN GILCHKIST, 
ANNIE GILCHRIST, ETHEL GILCHRIST, 

Children of the American Revolution by right of de- 
scent from Lieutenant James Gilchrist, of the Fifth 
Pennsylvania Reg"iment, Avho enlisted July 1, 1779, 
and retired Jan. 1, 1783. 



Tennessee: Centenniai.. 121 



TO ANNIE. 

[Ou Mr, Moody's giving her a flower and a kiss.] 
rX) Y girl of ten, with gray-blue eyes, 

V The man of God gave thee 
A spray of snowy, waxen bloom 
That shed its fragrance free. 

My song" bird, with the silver voice, 

He g-ave to thee a kiss, 
And breathed a prayer that thou may'st share 

In heaven's eternal bliss. 

Forget him not; but O, the word 

He preached, remember more; 
Heed what he said about our Lord, 

How that he's g-one before 

To make a place for thee and me. 

And send his Spirit here 
To lead his children to the lig-ht. 

To comfort and to cheer. 

My little g-irl, O may'st thou yield 

Fnto that Spirit's power! 

Then in life's darkest, bitterest hour 

He'll keep thee safe from every foe. 

And lead thee even here below 

To heights where flowers supernal blow 
In amaranthine bower. 

Nashville, February 7, 189G. 



122 Souvenir 



ETHEL. 



A knock on my door, low down, low down; 
I open to see a g-olden crown 

In the young- day fair and sweet, 
The loveliest vision in all the town: 
A dear little girl, with eyes of brown. 

And naked, lily-white feet. 

Into my arms, my isweet, my sweet. 

She nestles — O, but two fond hearts meet 

In the flitting shades of my room! 
May she ever as now be pure and fair," 
I whisper, while kissing her bright, brown hair 

And cheeks of delicate bloom. 

Round my neck her arms are wreathed, are 

wreathed ; 
Into my ear a fond wish is breathed. 

As I kiss the waxen brow. 
A small, fair hand caresses my face 
With all a four-year-old's tender grace: 
"Ma, give me a nickel now! " 



Tennessee Centennial. 



1^3 




124 Souvenir 

ESTELLE. 



[Eldest daughter of Hon. Chas. M. Ewing, Dresden, Tenu.] 

fHE pallid moon had slowly sunk behind 
The dark horizon's leafy, western rim; 
And brighter glowed the lost and lovely Pleiad 
In uneonceived immensity — now lost 
And darkling' on the outer realms of space, 
Now twinkling faint as loath to leave great Al- 
cyone, 
Which some do say 's the seat of God's white 

throne, 
Where our own sun, with his attending" worlds, 
Is speeding with untold velocity. 
The night distilled her gentle, pearly dews, 
Which lightly lay upon the verdant wood, 
W^here, in the summer dusk, blue violets slept; 
Where, rapt in peace, the choral songsters 

dreamed — 
Distilled her dews on honeysuckle blooms. 
Whose waxen chalices, with every breath 
Of soft South wind, sent waves of fragrance in 
A dim-lit chamber, where, on snowy couch, 
A maiden lay prostrate with fever's touch. 
Her long, fair hair streamed on the pillow's lace; 
And on the sweet, pure face sat patience throned. 
The perfumed lamp hung pendant o'er the couch,. 
'Neath which in health she'd read the classic lay. 
Or conned some tale of Eld with text-books piled 
On console near for easy reference. 
Oft thus she'd read till stars did hint of morn; 
Now, like a broken lily fair, she lay. 
Watched by the fondest love that heaven gives. 



Tennessee Centennial.. 125 

Hist! clear from lonely depths of leafy wood 
A quick, sweet note broke forth. It was the lark! 
Joined by a thousand other choristers, 
Their silver song- salutes the purpl'ing dawn. 
Eed bars shot from the East and caught the mists 
That drifted on the low hills' wooded crest 
In waves of amber light. The maiden stirred. 
With love ineffable the watcher rose, 
And pressed a kiss upon that brow of pearl. 
Another entered, and she glided out 
To breathe the freshness of the awakening- morn.. 
The fair one's heavy-lidded eyes unclosed 
And met the father's loving, anxious gaze. 
' Dear papa, since our talk of yesterday 
I've anchored all my hopes on Him, thorn-crowned 
And pierced and broken on the cross for us. 
That we, through His dread woe, might be re- 
deemed. 
Ah me! the instability of earthly hopes, 
They're swallowed up in this grand, glorious hope! 
And I, even I, will walk with him in white." 
The blue eyes closed again, and soon she slept. 
With velvet tread, he stole out in the morn. 
And joined his wife npon the flowery lawn. 
No word spoke they, their thoughts one anxious 

prayer: 
The restoration of their worshiped one. 
Some moments passed, when from the chamber 

there. 
Sweet as low zephyrs kiss ^^olian lyres, 
A strain came which the angels bent to catch: 
' O will you meet me at the fountain, 
Where the surges cease to roll? " 
With swift and noiseless step, they then returned 



126 SOUVKNIR 

To that white couch, and broke the holy spell 
Which held entranced the meek and guileless soui. 

*' O mamma, why did you arouse me? I 
Was happy.'' Ah! she saw the brows of woe 
Above her bent. Then, clasping her pale hands. 
Her eyes the lattice sought, where roses white 
Breathed odors sweet upon the radiant day; 
Then an Arabian proverb murmured low: 

*' There's a black camel named Death 
Kneeleth once at each door, 
And a mortal must mount 

To return nevermore." 
Then to her parents each she gave a hand: 

" We know, dear ones, exempt we cannot be 
From this sad, common lot." xVgain she slept. 
They came and went, the languishing July days. 
While watchers hung around the snowy couch. 
With that hope which, deferred, makes sick the 

heart. 
O God! those leaden nights, those anguished days, 
While still they watched the weary, wasting hours 
Of this their cherished one! Then came a day 
When low she sank, and round about the couch 
Came many loved ones, whom she asked to praj'. 
With lo^v and broken accents, they besought 
High Heaven to spare the pure and peerless one. 

*' No, no, my friends," the sweet voice murmured, 
" no," 
The voice so soon to join angelic choirs. 
To chant redeeming love in heavenly courts; 

** Pray, ' Not my will, but thine, O God, be done; ' 
Go, Aving your flight from star to star. 
From world to luminous world, as far 
As the universe spreads its flaming wall; 



Tennessee Centennial. 127 

Take all the joys of all the spheres, 
And multiply each through endless years; 
One minute of heaven is worth them all." 
The golden moon had grandly risen above 
The dark horizon's leafy, eastern rim; 
And softer shone the last and lovely Pleiad 
In unconceived immensity — now lost 
And darkling on the outer realms of space, [cyone. 
Now twinkling- faint as loath to leave great Al- 
When the pure spirit, humbly trusting in 
A Savior's pardoning love, did bid adieu 
To earthborn ties to walk with Him in white. 
• • • 
GOING HOME. 

fEE yon proud eagle perched on mountain height, 
At whose broad base old Ocean's surges sweep 
In molten gold beneath young Phoebus' light. 

Still chariot wheels that glide up Heaven's blue 
deep; 
Yet beaming with Aurora's fresh'ning smile, 

He kisses o& her tiara of gems, 
While liquid notes from happy birds beguile 

The sorrow^ing soul to beatific calms; 
But all these radiant glories may not lead 
Astray the king of birds. His broad wings spread 
On cold, thin air, for home and love afar 
He speeds to dwell near Phoebus' golden car. 
See yonder white-winged vessel as she glides 

Upon the bosom of the billowy sea; 
The white-capped waves kiss soft her heaving sides. 

And round her breathes the wildest minstrelsy. 
On deck a fair and pensive maiden stands. 

Caressed by breezes bland. She patient waits 



128 Souvenir 

The good ship's time to reach her native lands 

That lie far out to sunset's golden gates — 
Fair, verdant vales, sheltered by snow-crowned 

mount, 
Fragrant with blooms, where sweetly murmuring 

fount 
In sunshine gleams — naught 'neath Italia's dome 
Can charm her soul from that far, Western home. 

Far out on yon lone moor a traveler guides 

His weary steed along the toilsome way; 
Upon the night's black wings the storm king rides, 

Illumed by naught save lightning's lurid ray. 
Anon upon his vision broadly beams 

A stately mansion lit from dome to cell^ 
Good cheer, women as fair as poet's dreams. 

And men enslaved with beauty's witching spell. 
Alluring strains float out upon the storm. 
Amid the scene whirls many a fairy form; 
But on he rides, and stems the bitter blast; 
Imagination spreads a fairer feast. 

He knew that he would meet glad welcome there 

Amid that festive throng; but in a cot 
Was one he worshiped, beautiful and fair, 

Awaiting his return. That quiet spot 
Held charms far dearer than the gauds of earth. 

His wife — sweet goddess of his court of love — 
Could he exchange for empty, soulless mirth. 

She with whom dwelt content the meek-eyed dove? 
He sees the bright-swept hearth, the table spread, 
And o'er it all the rosy lamplight's shed; 
While from the lattice bends a bright young head. 
Listening, with low, hushed breath, his coming tread. 



Tennessee Centenniai.. 129 

REUNION. 

IN MEMORIAM JUDGE JOHN SOMERS. 

[Contributed, 

fHE winter solstice drear was drawing near, 
And leafless branches swayed 'neath frowning 

skies. 
The dark-green cedar on the sloping lawn 
Now waved, 'mid sighing", wild December winds, 
A sad farewell, as forth there sped a youth 
Along the paved walk, fringed with rose trees bare. 
A youth he was of rarest promise bright. 
The idol of an aged father's heart. 
His name stood proud among the alumni of ' 

The grandest university in the land. 
Sweet hoj)e and faith and courage sprung afresh 
In that young, loyal soul as he received 
A mother's kiss, a father's last embrace — 
Passed through the gate to seek fame, fortune in 
The golden, vast, illimitable West. 
O precious hours, how fast ye drop away. 
While purblind, thoughtless mortals sit and dream! 
Months sped apace. In that far Western land, 
As in his native State, the gracious boy 
Drew to his side hearts loyal, strong, and true; 
And though his homesick heart oft fondly nursed 
The precious memories of other days. 
He gave his sweet, strong soul unto his work, 
A worthy son of his brave, noble sire. 
Some eves, when stars shone out and gibbous moon 
Rode high, he'd quit the town's close, thronging 

streets, 



I30 



Souvenir 



And seek the low, far-stretching- plains to dream 
Of home and wonder if the winds that soughed 
Across the dreary waste had come from thence. 
At an altitude he was not wont to see 
Lay Hydra in the chambers of the South, 
With Nox and Corvus on her sinuous folds; 
At lower altitude the Great Bear marched 
Clear and majestic round the polar star; 
While Bootes' half a hundred worlds the deep 
Blue concave climbed, even as in aeons agone. 
In these lone hours the youth would humbly pra3'. 
And give his loved ones unto Heaven's trust; 
W"hile tears (an honor to him) stained his cheek. 
Months sped apace. Fleet, white-winged messen- 
gers 
Sent by his hand oft reached the dear home band, 
And gave sweet joy to longing, anxious souls. 

The winter solstice drear was drawing near. 
Sad tidings came. Contagion fell had seized 
The youth. Their broken hearts were filled with 

woe. 
Each day for weeks came flashing o'er the wires 
A bulletin telling how the sufferer fared. 
Ah, iron-browed suspense bowed down the sire! 
Though dipped ten thousand times in Marah's 

wave. 
No i)en could tell the anguish of his soul. 
O God, the tears that fell without avail, 
The prayers that scaled the heavens to spare that 

youth ! 
Xo mother's hand to smooth his weary couch, 
Xo father's presence to soothe the homesick boy! 
And yet he lacked not friends; and, best of all, 



Tenness£:ic Centenniai.. 131 

TLat One who closer than a brother stays, 
To whom he'd given allegiance years before, 
Stood by him then. One morn he woke and said: 
' Weep not, my friends. For me death has no fears. 
My father's here in Silver City. Bring 
A wider couch, that he may rest with me." 
The father's j^earning' spirit was there indeed. 
Methinks some occult, inner consciousness — 
Some strong, sixth-sense, annihilating space — 
Revealed his presence to his dying boy. 
The couch was brought. He smiled, w^ell pleased, 
and died. 

More direful tidings wires never bore 
Than these. Thej^ broke the aged father's heart. 
O how he fought his grief from court to court. 
The brave, grand judge! But whether he drove 

between 
Green, flower-scented lanes or steamed across 
The counties, stopped in hostelry or home. 
Or sat upon the bench, decisions wise 
E'er rend'ring with keen sense of equity, 
Bereavement, dark-browed, ever haunted him. 
And drew him nearer that " Sweet By and By " 
His strong man's soul in silence longed to reach. 
The lawyers loved him like a father, and 
With saddened hearts would say: 
" He's grieving for 
His boy; the spring's gone from the judge's life." 

Again a winter solstice drear drew near. 

The third since his son woke to life in heaven; 

Then he laid down his burden here. 

And gates of pearl swung wide to let him in 



132 Souvenir Tennessee Centenniai.. 

To join his son beside the crystal stream, 

Where grief and prayer are changed to notes of 

praise 
To Him who gives our loved ones back to us 
In that fair clime where death can never come. 

• • <» 
BROKEN EANKS. 

[In memory of Mrs. Mary Lewis, State Superintendent of Sabbath 
Observance, of the Central Woman's Christian Temperance Un- 
ion.] 

ROKEN ranks! Ah, yes, my friends, 
She's broken ranks and sailed afar 
To better lands. God always sends 
His choicest ones first o'er the bar. 



1 



How choice she was the poor can say. 
The little ones she did so love, 

The friends for whom she made each day 
So fair, akin to heaven above. 

At home, at church, in council hall 
Will work no more her bus}' hands; 

She ever heeded duty's call 

Before she sailed to better lands. 

Weep not, my sisters; yes, I know 
Xo plummet our loss can sound. 

Our hearts will ache, we loved her so; 
But think not of that new-made mound 

At Olivet; think of her now. 
So safe from any earthlj' frown, 

Supernal light upon her brow, 
Wearing a starry crown. 



4 



^^0 






















^' 



'~M^' 



;5- 



.f_wi-;^^.M ^.^:m 



-^^^^v^t^^ 



^x 



''Hwl& 



%,rw 



v.W 






^ 



■^- 



^^^^' 



"i^-'^^^-^'^^v. ^, 



ig^ 



:*■ 



^tJU 



,^^^5^:'^^^^*^ 













.r^^ 



:j. 



; ^'^^;^'^'r^< 







"^ V 



:W^:^-T^<*,i^^-^L^^ 



-^^r^ 






y^ ^^^A^^l-^ ^^^<t 



¥^^:J^S'.^^F{f:t 






iCwai. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

015 863 478 8 % 



